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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609637">The Devil &amp; The Deep Blue Sea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farewell_to_Kings/pseuds/Farewell_to_Kings'>Farewell_to_Kings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Depression, Dismemberment, Fish, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, M/M, McBeardy, Mermaids, Multi, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permanent Injury, Romance, Sea Monsters, Slow Burn, Submarines, There's fish sex in Chapter 21, Transformation, im so so sorry, marlin!paul, mermaid!au, octopus!ringo, polybeatles, seadragon!george, shark!john</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:01:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>89,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farewell_to_Kings/pseuds/Farewell_to_Kings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly, a jolting sensation shot up Richard’s spine. He whipped his head around to see the captain poking at a magenta tentacle.</p><p>“Squish,” the captain hummed as he poked it the fleshy appendage again and Richard shuddered at the feeling.</p><p>The feeling. Of the captain. Touching a tentacle. That was attached to his own body.</p><p>“I didn’t expect heaven to be like this,” the captain said, eyes half-lidded. </p><p>“This ain’t heaven,” Richard moaned, “this is hell. ”</p><p>---</p><p>In which Richard Starkey and Captain McCartney go on a voyage to hunt mermaids and succeed, but not in the way they envisioned.</p><p>***CURRENTLY ON INDEFINITE HIATUS***</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Harrison/John Lennon/Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr, George Harrison/Paul McCartney, George Harrison/Ringo Starr, The Beatles &amp; The Beatles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Golden Opportunity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is on indefinite hiatus and I have no plans to finish it</p><p>Beta'd by InkInMyFingertips</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span> Day one</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At last, the day of departure! I write with excitement and anticipation because we are about to set course on an expedition to change the course of history— We have been chosen by an enigmatic woman by the name of Yoko to go to the depths of the ocean. I know not where our patron accumulated her vast wealth to fund this journey, but it is of no consequence. She had prepared a magnificent vessel built for the future. I have been warned repeatedly that I will most likely perish on this trip, but if I were to survive, my name will go down in legend— </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richard sighed as he reread the passage he naively wrote thirty days ago. He had only gotten through a third of it before having to put the worn book down. Damn his curiosity: it was what made him ignore all sense of reason and agree to the foolish expedition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered when he first received his letter, as they all did. It was on ebony paper with words written in a gold ink that would change his life forever:</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Richard Starkey</b>
</p><p>
  <b>There is more to the sea than you can possibly imagine:</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Should you surrender yourself to its whims, glory shall await you—</b>
</p><p>
  <span>When he first read the note, he assumed it must have been some kind of prank, someone trying to rob him or something like that. He would have thrown it out without a second thought, but the letter had a small package with it that he couldn't ignore. When he undid the twine holding it together, he was amazed to find a golden mechanism. Its handle was ornately carved, but the body of it was sleek. When Richard examined it more, he found that it was real gold and not some cheap paint over what was a kind of industrial key.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t ignore this; no one sends a golden key as a prank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Following those words was an address and a time. Richard checked his calendar to find that he didn't have work that day and figured he could give it a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, he walked down to where the meeting spot was. Upon arrival at the destination, a small diner, he had to note the expensive Rolls-Royce parked outside. This establishment served cheap bar food; what was this car doing here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, regardless of whether or not he'd meet the person who gave him the letter, at least he could get lunch while he was out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was first greeted by a young Asian woman who immediately asked: "Are you Richard Starkey?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt both a rigid fear and a mighty trepidation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah, I am. I got your letter— and your key," he said, pulling out the two articles. The woman smiled and led him through the restaurant into a room in the back. It was dark, but not musky. The room was cool, and the navy paint used on the walls, as well as the dimmed lights, gave Richard the impression of an underwater cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see that we are all gathered now,” an accented feminine voice called. Richard scanned the room and took stock of everyone there. In the center was a woman seated on a chaise lounge, dressed in pure white clothing except for the dark circular shades that concealed her face. She was gracefully poised in the center of the spacious room and on the fringes were bulky men, most likely bodyguards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman in the center spoke again: “My name is Yoko Ono, and I have sent you an invitation here for a very specific reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you might have the wrong fella," Richard said, laughing sheepishly and feeling very out of place with this woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, she chuckled. “It may seem that way, no? But don't worry, I picked you out myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Picked me out for what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am preparing to fund an expedition to the depths of the ocean. I have already found a captain willing to lead the said expedition, but he needs a crew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've never been on an expedition—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Yoko said, calmly holding up a gloved hand. “I will explain everything first, then you may speak. I have specifically chosen each one of the crew members for the voyage. You all have one thing in common: you have nothing to lose. Should the mission be a failure, you will leave your miserable existence. But should you succeed, then glory and wealth await you. Now, if you think that the fortune is not worth the risk to your life, then please return the golden key I supplied you with and exit the room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard shuffled, looked at the other men in the room, and lowered his gaze guiltily. He couldn't make a decision yet as he was bursting with questions that needed to be asked but held his tongue out of fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let us continue. The goal of the expedition is simple: find an extremely rare species of fish located in the Atlantic Ocean. You will not be paid unless you bring back one of their species alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard finally found his voice. “Excuse me,” he squeaked out, “you wouldn’t happen to be talking about… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anthropisces?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Yoko simply nodded in response, something stirred in Richard’s soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have already prepared a ship for you. In precisely one month, you all will meet and your captain will lead you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm sorry but— you expect us to trust a captain who we aren’t even allowed to meet? Who is he? What do I need for the trip? I can't get ready if I don't know the details—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have plenty of crewmen who will make sure the operation runs smoothly. As for the captain… you’ll find that McCartney is more than qualified. In the upcoming days, I will mail you your instructions. All you have to do is prepare. And don't worry, should you succeed, I'll personally pay you a million pounds,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard sputtered, choking on air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"One more thing, you mustn't mention this to anyone. You do, and you won't be allowed to join us. Do you understand?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah— sorry, it's all a bit much for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You'll have a month to think it over. If you don't want to come, just return the key to me. You're dismissed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she said those words, Richard was ushered out of the back room and into the diner. The door slammed close in his face, and the air of the mysterious room and its equally strange inhabitants was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the patrons bustled about, all he could do was clutch the golden key in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is daft, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should throw the key away and be done with this madness. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the diner, his appetite gone, already trying to remove thoughts of sea exploration out of his head. He wasn't an adventurer, just a man who worked part-time at a grocery store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did Yoko have a million pounds, and how could she offer it up so casually? He didn't doubt that she was wealthy, but still… it made no sense. Why not hire professionals? She could get a crew of people who knew what they were doing, not some college dropout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he wasn't a dropout, he was actually booted from university, but the point still stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>These were the same questions Richard pondered as he reached his flat. All the while, her voice echoed in his head:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have nothing to lose. Should the mission be a failure, you will leave your miserable existence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking around at his home, Richard had to admit to himself that she was right. He lived in poverty, and despite his best efforts at school, it sadly didn’t pay the bills. He lived alone, eating cheaply out of cans, with no signs of things ever going to turn around. There truly was nothing to lose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the task that Yoko wanted them to undertake… catching an anthropisces. Three years ago, she would have been laughed at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The name came from Anthro, human, and Pisces, fish. Human-fish, or in other words, a mermaid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mermaids were a legend, something in kids’ books— a fabricated, made-up creature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until </span>
  <em>
    <span>Julia.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Three years ago, a group of explorers went deep below the surface on a long voyage but returned far earlier than expected. It made national news when they revealed that they found a real mermaid. No one knew how it came to be, but the specimen found was quickly sent to a research facility. The crewmen dubbed the creature Jules, most likely after the science fiction author, but the researchers quickly found out that it was in fact, a female.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The specimen was renamed to Julia and numerous tests were to be carried out, but she ended up dead before anything could be done. She was wounded when the explorers found her, which was why they rushed to the surface in hopes of saving her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard vividly recalled how the public became obsessed with the ocean, with a surge of media to fuel the public's fascination. New vessels were made to find more merfolk like Julia, but they kept coming back empty-handed, or not at all. Rumors surfaced that Julia was a freak mutant made from the radioactive bombs tested in the ocean and that the government was keeping all the merfolk secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did an autopsy after Julia died, trying to discover the genetic secret to her existence, but the information gleaned from it was kept private. As soon as she made a splash (pun intended) in the world, she disappeared. All that was publicly made available was a singular photograph: blurry and in black and white, but famous. In it, Julia was drifting in a tank, her back facing the camera, head downturned. There was something so mysterious and alluring about the photo, yet tragically somber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard had always fantasized about her, and how amazing it would have been to have a real-life mermaid before your eyes. His rational mind told him that Julia was a fluke and that she was the only one— but his heart so desperately wanted there to be more. Forget the money: Richard wanted the experience, the glory, the pride in getting to be the one who unravels the mystery of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anthropisces— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And besides, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Richard thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it's not like I have anything better to do. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Between a grocery store or a legendary sea expedition, there was never a choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the month, he grew more and more excited as Yoko mailed him all the information he needed: the scope of the mission and what he needed to prepare for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He told the grocer he would be leaving for two months and sadly realized that his boss was the only real person who would miss him. He lived away from his parents, had no friends, nor any pets because of his allergies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who needs friends when you’re going to make history finding a mermaid?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like the day had come upon him too quickly, but Richard was ready. He gathered his belongings and was greeted by a black car right outside his flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened for him, and he hurried in without hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in the vehicle for about an hour, being chauffeured to what he knew was the ship. They were quickly leaving the city and approaching a coast, which had a few men standing around on a beach. There was a group with luggage, who Richard assumed to be his crewmates, as well as a lone figure standing at the edge of the water. He wondered who that man was and where their ship was hiding. It certainly couldn’t be hiding under the long, thin pier on the water. He exited the car with his suitcase and wandered over to the group of people first. They were mainly dressed sharply, in suits or button-up shirts, making Richard feel inadequate in his jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He awkwardly shuffled over, knowing that it was really in his best interest to introduce himself. As he entered the circle, he was accosted by a familiar face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richard, is that you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice came from a posh-looking man in a suit, once who Richard recognized immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Epstein!” he said out of shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, I’m not your professor anymore, you can just call me Brian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right…” Richard trailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a while since I last saw you, how have you been these days? Still keeping up with your studies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not after I got kicked from the university,” Richard admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I didn’t know— ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Richard said. “I still ended up on this expedition, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Mr. Epstein said. Richard couldn’t call him Brian in his head. “I would have been called a madman if I told the board I was going to hunt for mermaids,” he said, more to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard didn’t notice the large hand that suddenly fell on his shoulder. He looked up to see one of his fellow crewmates (a term he wasn’t used to yet) smiling at him. He was a very large man, towering over Richard, but his thick glasses made him appear less threatening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one of Mr. Epstein’s students, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Richard said. “Y’know, I actually got kicked because I wrote my thesis on Anthropisces. Never thought it would pay off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The large man laughed. “Imagine seeing the look on their faces when your thesis got you on a ship!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering why you were picked,” Epstein hummed, before looking at Richard. “Sorry, I should’ve kept that to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I wouldn’t have picked myself for an expedition either. What about you?” Richard asked the large man next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t picked by Yoko,” he said, “but she let Mr. Epstein pick out some of his students to come along. Not very many people believe that mermaids are a real species, so I guess finding brilliant scientists to agree to all this was a bit much.” Then, his eyes widened slightly. “I haven’t introduced myself yet— I’m Mal,” he said, hand outstretched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard took it and shook, his grip a lot less firm than Mal’s. “Nice to meet you, I’m Richie.” He decided that he rather liked Mal, far more than the impersonal captain or the other men with him. He gave the impression of being the most down-to-Earth (despite being the furthest from the ground.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mate’s over there,” Mal said, pointing at another man. “That’s Neil, and—” he gestured at a lanky guy with sideburns and glasses— “that’s Alistair, another of Mr. Epstein’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, call me Brian,” Epstein said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, Brian— no, sorry, that’s still too weird,” Mal said, Richard agreeing. “Well, anyway, that’s Alistair, and I haven’t talked to the other four guys yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the captain?” Richard asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, he’s been silent, just staring across that dock,” Brian said, shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if summoned, the lone man turned around and approached. Richard took stock of his appearance. He was broad-shouldered, visible even through his navy blue coat. There was a heaviness to his body, like weights were pulling him down, visible in his drooping eyes, the dark bags settled under there, as well as his unkempt beard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, gentlemen,” he simply said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the boat?” another man asked bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is James Paul McCartney,” the man drawled as if he didn’t hear the question, “but you’ll refer to me as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Before I take you on the ship, I have to ask: Are you prepared to risk everything for this voyage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group of men solemnly nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I welcome you all aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charybdis.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain said it with such resolve that made everyone confused, for there was no boat—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard spoke too soon. All of a sudden, a massive </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>emerged from the sea, creating a tidal wave that drenched the ten men with its salty spray. As Richard wiped the water from his eyes, he looked up to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked like a giant metal monster rising out of the deep. It filled the entirety of Richard’s vision, as well as the entire wharf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Personally,” the captain mused, “I don’t like the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charybdis, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so I’ve taken to calling it the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yellow Submarine.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The submarine would have been an imposing vessel, with its sheer size, as well as the steel spike at its nose. It resembled a mechanical narwhal more than anything, except for its paint job. The entirety of its body was painted in a garish yellow, acidic to the eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe Yoko thought it looked gold, to keep on-brand with her excessive wealth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to your new home,” the captain said, taking in everyone’s stunned reactions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They began to march across the small wooden pier to reach the submarine while the captain explained the more crucial details of their expedition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s already a crew onboard to handle the technicalities of this journey. You nine, your job is to get an Anthropisces or mermaid, whichever term you prefer. You’re all qualified experts in your fields, so I imagine the trip shouldn’t take long at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard stuck to the back of the group, feeling both anticipation and dread. Seeing the colossal ship and walking up to it made him feel like an imposter; he wasn’t some kind of celebrity about to go on a luxury cruise. But he kept his mouth shut and walked onward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all climbed up a steel ladder embedded in the side of the submarine, not an easy feat when you had to carry luggage up with you. The captain opened a hatch on the top and dropped down to a small room with a door. He pulled out a golden key, the same as the ones Yoko gave out in the mail, slid it into a lock, and entered the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d give you a tour, but you’ll have plenty of time to explore the ship on your own,” the captain said. “Your quarters are at the end of this hall, and the bridge is that way,” he said, pointing through a doorway. “I trust you all can handle settling in on your own; meet me at the bridge when you’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he left, striding forward with haste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard couldn’t help himself and let out a small squeal. When he first saw the interior of the sub, his jaw dropped, as did Mal’s. It was furnished and decorated, far nicer than his own home. Sconces illuminated the tiled floors, and their quarters were much the same, carpeted and furnished in an </span>
  <em>
    <span>art-nouveau </span>
  </em>
  <span>style.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicer than me own home,” Richard mused out loud, a sentiment many of his crewmates shared. They all quickly dropped off their bags and made their way to the bridge where the captain was already giving out orders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, we’re all here. Gentlemen,” the captain began, but then gave his first smile since Richard saw him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s catch us a mermaid.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Charybdis, the Whirlpool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Day three </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We’ve already fallen into our daily routines. The crew, of whom I was surprised to find didn’t speak any English, took care of everything. All I have to do is meet up with my fellow crewmates and scientists to help find a mermaid. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They're all nice people, most of them, at least. Brian's a lot nicer now that he's not my teacher, and Mal and Neil are friendly. The rest of them are more introverted, except for Phil, who scares me. The only person I've haven't spoken to yet was the captain. He stays in his private quarters and always talks down to us, never with. It's like he's afraid to let people close— </em>
</p><p>Richard didn’t know what to think about the trip anymore. The first week, he was filled with excitement, overjoyed at the prospect of their journey. The submarine was like a palace underwater, and the things he got to see through its windows— it was all so unreal.</p><p>It was apparent that they were going to a place no human had ever laid eyes on before. Richard and the other scientists got to see bizarre flora and fauna unheard of. Even if they didn’t find a mermaid, there was still a treasure trove of life down in the depths. Captain McCartney explained how Julia was found near an underwater volcano, and that under it was a series of interconnected tunnels. The strong currents in the area displaced the wounded mermaid enough for her to be found and captured. If they can locate the tunnels that spat her out, then they will most likely find the rest of her kind.</p><p>George Martin, who wasn’t a biologist like the rest of them, but instead a geologist, was the one who illuminated this theory, one of the few times Richard got to hear him speak. Although Richard had made some friends, most people on the ship ignored him. The bulk of the crew didn’t speak English for starters, the captain never had time for idle chit-chat, and the rest of the scientists were dark and brooding.</p><p>Richard was chosen for the expedition because he was some guy who happened to like mermaids, but the others weren’t. He found out secondhand from Geoff that George’s wife, for instance, had an affair and was pregnant with another man’s child. Although he felt guilty gossiping about it, it explained why a man like him would want to hide away under the surface of the sea. </p><p>He knew Allen Klein, another one of his team, was thrown into some legal trouble recently and joined when Yoko bailed him out. Phil Spector flat out told Richard that he killed a man, before howling and cackling as he walked away. And the captain would stare out across the bridge stroking a small gold band around his finger, telling Richard that these men were all running away.</p><p>For them, away from the stresses of life, but for Richard and the other students, from boredom and mediocrity.</p><p>All he could do was speculate, for none one would talk to him. They all looked down on him, both physically and socially. Once word got out that he failed out of school, no one would give him the time of day to hear his thoughts or plans.</p><p>Which was a blessing in disguise when he realizes that now he didn’t have any responsibilities.</p><p>He had all the time in the world to just stare out of the portholes and admire the sights. There were magnificent coral reefs filled with all kinds of bright tropical fish swimming about in swarms. He saw sharks and mantas and his favorite sea-creature of all time: octopuses.</p><p>The little guys were crawling across the seabed and hiding into impossibly small crevices when the sub passed over it. </p><p>As they proceeded, he saw a large shrimp reach out with its pincers and snatch up a fish in an instant, dragging it down into a hole in the ground. Another fish swam over near the same spot and Richard watched as the shrimp snapped it up as well.</p><p>He tried not to think about a 50-foot version of the creature taking down boats.</p><p>The first week they stayed in shallower waters, which Richard appreciated for it was easy to observe the colorful menagerie of life. </p><p>But eventually, they had to go deeper, the seafloor grew craggier, and the animals more bizarre.</p><p>As the vibrant hues of the coral faded out, it was replaced with a murky green and soon sharks were in sight. Unlike the other creatures that fled at the sight of the bright yellow ship, the sharks kept investigating, tackling them periodically.</p><p>Their passage into deeper waters was marked by the sight of a killer whale ripping a shark to shreds.</p><p>"There's always a bigger fish," Mal had commented when they watched them, entranced by the sight.</p><p>Once they were deep enough, the freaky creatures came out. The sea was lit up by tiny plankton and jellyfish, and if you blurred your vision, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between it and a starry night sky.</p><p>They were so deep now that not only was the pressure immense, but the animals were never seen before.</p><p>Some strange spiny things scuttled across the ground, like a sea-urchin with legs. Sharks with malformed faces grinned. And gigantic beasts straight out of a book on dinosaurs drifted past. It was like he was in another dimension.</p><p>He wished he could get a better sight, but the windows in the crew quarters were tiny and weren't equipped with lights. The bridge, however, had a massive view, so Richard made his way there, taking the long way to avoid other people. They were about to reach the underwater tunnels as well, and it would be nice to be at the bridge to see it firsthand. Upon arrival, Mal greeted him while Neil nodded, beckoning him over.</p><p>“Pretty sight, isn’t it?” Mal asked, looking out across the bridge. Outside the windows wasn’t the mouth of a cave but instead a vibrant forest of kelp. The sounds of George and Captain McCartney talking could be heard.</p><p>“If we go in with anything less than full speed, we’ll get torn apart by the currents—”</p><p>“We don’t have time to cut down all this—”</p><p>It was sadly the most Richard had ever heard those two speak.</p><p>“What’re they arguing about?” he asked.</p><p>Neil answered. “George wants us to cut down the seaweed so we can charge through the tunnels at full speed, but the captain’s impatient.”</p><p>Someone snorted. “The captain’s a moron if he goes forward. The currents in those caves are a lot stronger than he thinks.” It was Geoff, George’s… student? Assistant? Co-worker? Richard didn’t talk to him enough to find out.</p><p>“I doubt it can destroy this sub, though,” Mal said. “We’re in a fortress down here.”</p><p>“Maybe this is why no one finds mermaids,” Neil said, “because all the ships get crushed here.”</p><p>“But do we have the time to cut it down?”</p><p>“Well isn’t that your job, Mr. Biologist?”</p><p>Richard quickly tuned out of the argument, looking out across the mass of kelp ahead. It was rather beautiful, with its green leaves sticking out of bright orange stalks. Almost looked like it was illuminated by the sunset if it weren’t so dense. He gazed out at the long projections coming out, gently waving back and forth.</p><p>He soon saw something off in the tangle of plants. It was drifting in it, stiff and rigid, with spine-like projections sticking out of it. It blended in incredibly well, except for two bright spots, gleaming in the shadows. </p><p>It blinked.</p><p>“What the hell is that?” Richard shouted, pointing at where he was looking. But he must have blinked, for the sight of the mysterious creature was gone.</p><p>“What are you pointing at?” Neil asked, seeing nothing but more leaves.</p><p>“There was some kind of fish in there— I saw its eyes—”</p><p>“Well, I don’t see anything,” Geoff hissed.</p><p>“It was probably just a fish,” Neil mused, and that was that. </p><p><em> But fish don’t blink, </em>Richard wanted to say but held his tongue. He shouldn’t make a fuss over something so small, especially with the captain growing more and more agitated.</p><p>“I’m not going to waste everyone’s time with this. We’re going in now,” the captain growled and started barking out orders. All the while, the image of the strange sea-creature remained burned into his retinas. It looked like some kind of space alien, definitely not human.</p><p>But maybe… could it have been an <em> Anthropisces? </em></p><p>The ship surged forward, the seaweed being forced aside. Despite George and Geoff’s warnings, the craft was making it through just fine.</p><p>Then, there was a loud groan throughout the steel plating of the ship.</p><p>“Keep going,” Captain McCartney said.</p><p>The submarine pushed forward, and its powerful spotlights lit up the entrance to the tunnels. Richard could see sediment being whipped up by the rapid current.</p><p>“Full speed ahead,” the captain shouted, and the ship lurched forwards— </p><p>Then it stopped.</p><p>A terrible grinding noise filled the room and Richard saw fear bloom across the captain’s face.</p><p>“There’s something caught in the motors!” a man yelled.</p><p>“It’s tangled up!”</p><p>“I told you—” George hissed.</p><p>“Pull back!” the captain shouted, but it was too late. The underwater whirlpools pulled the submarine in and Richard’s ears were flooded with screaming, shouting, and the ominous creaking of the ship.</p><p>They kept moving forward, the engine was still jammed, and they slammed directly into the cavern walls. The ship rocked, shuddered, but remained intact.</p><p>“We’re gonna be fine, the ship can take it!” Mal shouted over the chaos— more as a reassurance to him than to anyone else. The hull kept roaring as the pressure increased, and soon the sub was flung across the tunnels and into a jagged wall. </p><p>Metal screeched and hissed, and the entire ship bucked as it collided into the caves again. </p><p>Richard was flung to the floor as the ship yawed and the power went out. All around him was flailing bodies, even the commanding voice of the captain drowned out by the cacophony.</p><p>Debris was falling from the roof of the cavern and crashing onto the submarine, the ceiling caving in. A massive crack crawled down the spine of the ship and water rushed in.</p><p>“We’re going to die!” someone yelled, maybe all of them at once. The emergency red lights began to flash as sirens wailed. Every few seconds, the hull would shudder and tremble.</p><p>
  <em> We’re going to die. </em>
</p><p>Richard didn’t want to die. He was scared for his life and began to sob as the end approached. This was how he goes, in a giant steel coffin surrounded by strangers. </p><p>How he wished he could go back to a month ago! How he begged to go to his past self and just be content with his simple part-time job— Glory wasn’t worth his own life!</p><p>Amid all the terror, an eerie calm washed over him. It hit him like a wave, like someone had begun to softly sing a lullaby in his ears. Perhaps it was the acceptance of his fate, but Richard stopped screaming and looked up.</p><p>In the darkness ahead, he saw a figure floating in the waters. </p><p><em> How funny, </em> Richard thought. <em> We wanted to find a mermaid, and we did. It’s a shame that we’re all going to die, but it’s nice to catch a glimpse. </em></p><p>He soaked in the details of the figure, despite how murky the waters had become. All he could see were two pale eyes gazing at him, and a large grin full of teeth.</p><p>The figure darted forward and another deafening crash resonated throughout the ship.</p><p>Richard closed his eyes and knew no more.</p>
<hr/><p>When he came to, all he could think about was the immense pain he was in. He tried to move, but his entire body protested. Some bones had to have been fractured. The only part of his that wasn’t aching were his legs, which he couldn’t feel at all. </p><p>The memories drifted back into Richard’s head as his headache intensified.</p><p>He finally wrenched his eyes open to see that he was draped over a pile of rocks and debris. There was no sign of the bright yellow submarine, just the small bits of metal scattered about. </p><p>How did he get on the surface? The submarine was miles below sea level; there was no way that Richard managed to get to dry land without drowning.</p><p>Looking up, the sight of a cave ceiling greeted him. There were little bioluminescent mushrooms near the top, lighting up the small cavern he found himself in. Richard had to thank his lucky stars. If it wasn’t for this air pocket underground, he would have been a corpse floating in the bottom of the ocean. </p><p>A cynical part of his mind told him that it didn’t matter. An underground safe-spot was still far, far away from the surface. He couldn’t make a boat or a diving bell out of the colorful rocks around him, and he certainly couldn’t swim all the way back home.</p><p>He was alive, but with no way to survive.</p><p>Richard let his eyes fall closed, took a deep breath, and let out the longest string of profanities he knew that would have left a nun weeping.</p><p>As his voice echoed across the cave, Richard began to look around. Aside from the mushrooms and rocks, there wasn’t anything of interest. Some crabs were scuttling about, and the occasional fish swimming— </p><p>Wait.</p><p>That was a fish, swimming right by Richard, displaying an impressive number of fins.</p><p>“There’s no way—” he said, scanning his environment. Was he actually— </p><p>Some bubbles floated up a distance away. </p><p>Richard was… <em> underwater. </em> And <em> breathing. </em></p><p>He took in a deep breath and let it out, trying to comprehend what it was like to not breathe air. It felt different, but Richard struggled to articulate it in his thoughts.</p><p>The only thing left to do now was to move. All of his muscles felt sore, but he pushed on and soon found out why he was in such pain. The majority of his arms were a reddish-pinkish color, like some kind of alien burn scar. It looked like a rocky canyon in all honesty and he tried not to stare at the ruined skin as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.</p><p>Maybe he died and this is heaven or purgatory or hell. He didn’t know for certain, only that everything hurt and his arms looked like shit.</p><p>He cast a glance behind him to see his legs but quickly blinked away after only a millisecond. All he saw was red and mangled up limbs all twisted up in a horrible knot. Thank god they were completely numb. The pain would be too unbearable if they weren’t.</p><p>Richard dragged himself around the cave praying for some kind of escape. There were the tunnels with the rapid currents, but it would have been foolish to throw himself in when his legs were broken.</p><p>Having to crawl made Richard’s arms sorer than before, and he went at a snail’s pace. But what else was there to do— where else could he go?</p><p>After five minutes of wandering about, a familiar head of black hair became visible.</p><p>“Captain!” Richard shouted, overjoyed at another person, but quickly stopped.</p><p>The captain was the fool who made the ship go on ahead and ignored George’s advice. Because of him, Richard’s legs were brutalized and he was stuck underground and underwater with no idea how he was alive nor breathing.</p><p><em> But two heads are better than one, </em>he decided and nudged the captain’s prone body.</p><p>“Come on, please don’t be dead.”</p><p>Boulders, broken stalactites, and sheets of metal buried his greyish body. There was a very good chance that something punctured his skin and killed him. Richard was extremely lucky (or unlucky) to survive; the captain was not.</p><p>But then his eyes began to drift open and Richard stopped thinking.</p><p>“...wh...”</p><p>“The submarine got destroyed, Captain. You’re the first person I found—”</p><p>“...who’re you?” he asked.</p><p>Richard blinked.</p><p>“...I’m Richard Starkey, a scientist on the sub.”</p><p>“Right, right, didn’t recognize you for a sec...” Captain McCartney said. (Although he wasn’t a captain anymore!)</p><p>“Hey, wake up!”</p><p>“Your face is all dark and red,” the captain drawled. “You look all different.” The words came out so slowly that Richard was positive the captain’s brains got jostled around in the shipwreck.</p><p>“...Everything hurts…” he moaned. Then, in a weaker voice, “...topu...”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“...octopu...” he said.</p><p>“There’s no octopuses here, cap.”</p><p>“You,” he said. “I’m not hallucinating, am I?”</p><p>“What’re you on about?”</p><p>“You’re an octopus,” the McCartney stated and Richard laughed. Great to know that the only other person he found had a concussion. </p><p>Suddenly, a jolting sensation shot up Richard’s spine. He whipped his head around to see the captain poking at a magenta tentacle.</p><p>“Squish,” the captain hummed as he poked it the fleshy appendage again and Ringo shuddered at the feeling.</p><p>The feeling. Of the captain. Touching a tentacle. That was attached to <em>his own body.</em></p><p>“I didn’t expect heaven to be like this,” the captain said, eyes half-lidded. </p><p>“This ain’t heaven,” Richard moaned, “this is <em> hell. </em>”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chum and Chums</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>George and John are here, now we can party</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richard had to be honest: if he wasn't underwater he would have cried. In the past couple of hours, he was caught in a shipwreck, lost in a strange cave, turned into an </span>
  <em>
    <span>octopus-man, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and was stuck with… </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Captain McCartney, who was babbling to himself and softly humming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How Richard wished he was stuck with Mal or Neil! He needed a familiar face in the world of uncertainty he was thrown into. He needed a sane man to tell him that although he was now sporting eight tentacles they would figure things out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard tensed up again as the captain began to play with his pink appendages. As he did, they changed color, going from a lighter hue to a dark red, looking like a rocky canyon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please stop touching them, captain,” Richard sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I like it,” the captain hummed. “It’s cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing such a gruff man coo over how “cute” Richard was gave him massive whiplash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using his arms, Richard crawled out of reach of the captain’s curious hands, but the captain just wriggled out from under the debris and rubble. He was stuck, and Richard was debating whether to help him or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, the captain gave a powerful thrust and broke free in a burst of speed. He should have expected it, but the captain had turned into a half-man, half-fish creature like Richard. His skin was silvery, dark blue and rough on the back, with a gold stripe running down his sides. He had a long sail-like fin running down his back and tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once freed, Richard saw how the captain towered over him, his large marlin body quickly eclipsing Richard’s in size.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resigned, the captain stared at Richard, and his sleepy gaze was gone, replaced by a hardened glint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought this was a dream,” he muttered. “That or I had finally died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather be dead right now,” Richard muttered. He couldn’t even be angry anymore, just confused and resigned to whatever the hell was happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain paused. “Maybe,” he simply said, experimentally flexing his new muscular tail. “I’m sorry for poking you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captain appeared reserved and drawn-in. It was only marginally better than his discombobulation, but it made Richard yearn for someone else. He wasn’t friends with this man, and couldn’t pretend that he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what’re you going to do now?” Richard asked, and wasn’t too surprised when the captain didn’t reply. He seemed distant, eyes drifting over the edges of the cavern they were in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we changed,” he hummed, “then the others must have as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess we should go find them, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McCartney nodded, then muttered under his breath: “Nothing else for us to do.” He flicked his tail, gave it two strong shakes, and darted forward. Richard could feel the water around him get displaced by the motion. Then, it was Richard’s turn to catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sensation of having to coordinate six tentacles was insane. None of his new limbs had bones, and to feel them curl and flex into impossible shapes was foreign. Octopuses usually either crawled across the seabed or used jets of water to propel themselves forward, and Richard had no idea if he could do the latter, so he just scuttled over to the captain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t say anything, but the captain’s gaze screamed, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Surely that’s not as fast as you can go?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Octopuses aren’t known for their speed, cap,” he huffed as he made his way over. If he thought too hard about each individual tentacle, he would lose his footing and have to stop to collect himself. It was easier to just zone out and let his new body move on its own. Thank god that whatever changed his legs also gave him octopus instincts; moving would have been impossible without it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a captain anymore,” McCartney said, “so don’t call me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what do I call you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused. “Paul,” he said, before looking at the navy coat draped over his shoulders. He began to undo the clasps and shrugged it off. “No need for this anymore,” he explained, letting the discarded garment drift to the seafloor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at that point that Richard realized they were both completely naked. The only article the captain— Paul had on was his golden wedding band.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul whipped his tail and swam forward several meters before looking back at Richard’s crawling. He then dashed back and picked up Richard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s faster this way,” he said, trying to keep all eight wriggling tentacles in his grasp. Without warning, Paul started thrashing with his tail to zoom ahead— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And quickly smashed into a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go slower!” Richard hissed. Paul didn’t apologize, instead straightening out and moving at a much more comfortable speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drifted, the tunnels growing darker as they exited their safe pocket. Paul, silent and stalwart, Richard nervous and growing increasingly frustrated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After five minutes, he broke the silence. “I wish I got stuck with someone more talkative.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul said nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, we’re stuck together, Paul. Even if you don’t like me, you can at least try to make friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Paul said. “I just have a lot on my mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine, but I really don’t want to be alone right now,” Richard said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed, then uneasily asked him, “Why did you get on the Yellow Submarine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had nothing better to do,” Richard candidly replied. “You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hesitated before speaking. “Yoko… she offered me a job, and I took it, simple as that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard hummed and they fell into silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a marine biologist, right?” Paul then asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, a failed student, really. But I know some things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what we are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard paused. “Well, I’m certain you’re a blue marlin, but they’re not really found at this depth. They’re some of the fastest fish out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see, and you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m an octopus,” he said. “Dunno what kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell into silence again, Richard becoming painfully aware of how much of a non-conversationalist Paul was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Yoko knew this would happen?” Paul whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… maybe she knew we would change. And she sent us here to play some sick joke on us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe she wanted us to transform and then catch us and put us in a museum,” Richard said. “We shouldn’t go to the surface then,” he muttered. “Don’t want to end up dissected like Julia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Julia is like us? A person who changed, as we did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you have a regular conversation instead of interrogating me?” Richard asked. All talking to Paul did was make him more confused and uncertain. Very few things were scarier than an uncertain future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry. I’m just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>lost.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it’s fine. A lot has happened,” Richard hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wandered through the tunnels, Paul effortlessly gliding through while Richard practiced controlling his appendages. It all felt so counter-intuitive, but he had no say in the matter. This was who he was now, and he just had to accept it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The caves kept getting darker and darker, and the current got stronger. Spider-like crabs crawled on the walls, gazing at the pair with their empty eyes. It was strange how they were still animals while Richard and Paul were half-and-half. It was when Richard was watching them that he realized he was hungry… and that they looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>tasty— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He wasn’t going to start eating other sea creatures down here. At least, not yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do blue marlins eat?” Paul asked, and Richard realized that he only spoke to gain information, not to hold a conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, other fish,” Richard replied. “Were you staring at the crabs too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a vegetarian,” Paul huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you? Or is your wife a vegetarian?” Richard jokingly asked, but the way Paul’s expression shifted into a grim mask told him never to make that joke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s probably running away from something to do with his wife, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Richard thought, but he stopped there. It was rude to speculate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It raised the question of if they could get by without eating meat. Richard was practically a vegetarian too, severe allergies preventing him from eating seafood in any capacity. Maybe with the tentacles and instincts, his body could handle it now. It was definitely something worth experimenting with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went down another tunnel, and Richard noted that it looked familiar, but said nothing. Every tunnel was decorated with the same rocks and minimal foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until he saw the same group of crabs that he voiced his concerns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul, are we lost?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said. “...Maybe. I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we can’t find the others if we get stuck in these caves—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Paul suddenly hissed, planting a hand over Richard’s mouth. “Do you hear that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard pushed the hand out of the way and listened. He heard nothing but the sound of rushing water and the chittering crabs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then an echoing wail filled his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They looked at each other and Paul quickly began to follow the strange singing, moving much faster than before, but still not at full speed. Paul’s turns were slow, and as the craggy tunnels grew more twisted, he was forced to slow down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By then, the singing had deliberate lyrics.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should’ve known better with a girl like you—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That I would love everything that you do— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I do, hey, hey, hey, and I do— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t sound like any of his crewmates, but then again, Richard never heard anyone sing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got closer and listened to the mystery voice as it sang some more. Then, the singing stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, George, hurry it up in there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The singing resumed, and Richard saw how Paul’s face softened. George was there, a familiar face, finally!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul quickly dashed into an opening in the rocks and came out into a large clearing, but the sight there made them both freeze up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A massive shark was drifting there, with a marbled skin with stripes and spots tinged with green. Then, the shark turned and was revealed to be part man. He was large and muscular and all Richard could think about was how he could break Richard’s neck with those massive arms and eat him up. Before the crash, Richard would have been overjoyed at the sight of a merman, but all he felt was a primal fear, choking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the shark wasn’t the worst part: it was what was behind him, the sight of the crashed submarine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They must have gasped or shrieked, for the shark-man turned around and made eye-contact. He snarled, flashing his serrated fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off, we were here first,” he growled, clutching a thick rope with an anchor tied at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard wormed his way out of Paul’s grasp and hid behind the larger man. He didn’t like Paul, but the shark was large and muscular and Paul was big and bulky and he was terrified out of his mind. So much so that he didn’t notice the way Paul trembled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t want any trouble,” Paul started. “We’re just lost right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well too bad!” the shark-man boomed. “I sunk this ship— an’ I’m not leaving it so you can loot it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>did this?” Paul asked, teeth grit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, impressive right? I didn’t know human ships came in this size—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were </span>
  <em>
    <span>people </span>
  </em>
  <span>on that ship, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>you just killed them all!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Paul roared, but if the shark felt fazed at all, he didn’t show it, instead just laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good!” he shouted. “The more dead humans, the better!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?! What did they ever do to you?” Paul hissed, fists clenched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They killed my—” the shark-man paused before continuing as if his throat got lodged with something. “They almost got </span>
  <em>
    <span>in,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he said instead. “They just trample over everything and steal and maim! We need to kill ‘em before they can kill us,” he said. “Why the fuck do you care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard could swear that Paul would’ve decked the shark in the face, but instead, he took a deep breath and unclenched his fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he said, surprising both Richard and the shark. “Anyway, we need your help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul obviously didn’t agree with the shark-man, but he was a native. Whether or not they liked him, he was the only one who knew what he was doing and where they were. His help would be the best guidance they would get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>despise </span>
  </em>
  <span>humans,” he growled. “So if you tell me </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the wrong for wantin’ to kill ‘em—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, we get it!” Richard squeaked. “But we’re really lost and need help getting out of these caves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I know we can trust yeh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s we?” Paul asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, he’s cleaning out the insides right now.”  Then, he slammed his tail into the side of the ship. "Get out here!" he shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, a thin figure floated out of the giant gash in the side of the submarine. They looked dragon-like, with armored orange skin, large fins that looked like seaweed, and a long twisted tail. He was a leafy seadragon, a species of fish that resembled a floating piece of seaweed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Christ, John, what do you want?" the lanky figure grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Them," the shark, John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The newcomer looked over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh wow," was all he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We don't want to loot the ship," Paul repeated. "We just want to get out of the tunnels."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm not done here yet," the seadragon said. "So hang on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on, </span>
  </em>
  <span>George! We're not actually gonna help 'em, are we?" John asked. Richard felt disappointed that the seadragon didn't resemble Mr. Martin in any way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Honestly, I could use an extra pair of hands," George mused and John groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I don’t like them," John whined. “They’re a bunch of human-fetishists,” he moaned. Paul bristled at the insult, wondering how John concluded that, but did not comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you two say?” George asked. “Help us carry our stuff and we’ll lead you out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They nodded, desperate for their assistance and George quickly smiled and led Richard into the ship, leaving Paul with John. It was odd, seeing what was Richard’s home for the past month reduced to nothing but a rusting heap. The entire ship was upside-down, and the water flooding the entire space made it look foreign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eyy, Ringo, in here!” George shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo?” Richard asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, cause of all your rings,” he said and when Richard looked at his hands, not remembering wearing any, he stopped. His whole body was covered in bright blue rings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those weren’t here before,” he muttered. He tried tensing and un-tensing, but the rings didn’t fade. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This was new,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully, they’ll go away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George swam ahead and made a sharp turn into what Richard knew were the crew quarters. He was already digging through suitcases and Richard felt odd when he got to his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing but garbage in here,” George hummed, moving on to what Richard guessed was Phil’s luggage, because there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>bones </span>
  </em>
  <span>in there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up a journal, the same one he had written in daily for the past month. He had half a mind to keep it but extinguished the notion. He wasn’t Richard Starkey Marine Biologist anymore— he was Ringo, the octopus-man. Seeing all of the clothes and possessions drifting around in the ship made something inside him ache. Even if everyone was still alive somewhere, they all died in a way. They could never go back to their previous lives, and everything they spent working for, a degree, a job, a future, it was all useless now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard knew he wouldn’t have much to come back to on the surface, but he didn’t want to lose everything. His fingers curled around the journal. All of that time and effort and progress was wiped away in an instant. He… didn’t know what to do anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” George’s voice drifted into his ears. “Are you alright?” It sounded like it came from far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard wiped at his eyes and let go of the journal, letting it sink to the bottom of the cabin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yeah,” he said. “What’re we looking for in here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked down into a small cloth bag he held. “Well, I like to get shiny trinkets and whatnot,” he said, “but John only cares about what’s in the larder. He hates humans, but he can’t get enough of their food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Richard said. “I think the food’s this way.” He swam over to where he remembered the kitchens were, difficult considering how the ship was completely rotated. But once he did, George wasted no time in gathering cans, bottles, and jars. He even made a small cheer when he found a few chocolate bars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard found it a good distraction, watching George. To him, drifting around in the submarine was the most natural thing in the world. He and John have done this before many times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you take down this ship?” he asked and George snapped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I usually just tangle up the rudders with the kelp, and then John starts smashing into it. You’ve seen that big anchor he lugs around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a bit worried considering how big this ship was, but it got destroyed by the currents. Too big to dodge anything,” he mused. “Y’know, you’re an odd one...” George drawled in a quieter voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard let out a nervous chuckle. “What do you mean by that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re different. Like, you’re not from around here,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, no, actually,” Richard said. “I’ve never met another merperson aside from Paul,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul? That your marlin friend?” George asked and Richard nodded. “He seems sad, you notice that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All too well,” Richard said. “Not sociable at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, better than someone who can’t shut up. John always complains that I won’t keep quiet, you see. You can tell me if I annoy you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, not at all! It’s nice, actually. I missed having someone to talk to. I didn’t have very many friends back then,” Richard explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you got me now,” George said and Richard felt warm at the thought of only knowing him for a few minutes and already being friends. “Now, come on,” he said, swimming off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These ships usually have a captain’s quarters,” George explained. “The good stuff’s in there.” All Richard could do was try not to think about how pissed off Paul would be when he found out they went into his private room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like a magnet, George went straight for the liquor cabinet, laughing maniacally at the expensive scotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Check that main desk there,” George said and Richard obeyed, seeing numerous documents, pens, and a compass, which he took. He also snagged the golden key that Yoko had given them, as well as a watch. Then, he saw a small photo frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew it was breaching Paul’s privacy, but he picked it up anyway. It was a photo of Paul and a woman with long, blond hair. It was bizarre to see him smile, eyes squinting at the bright sunlight. He looked happy, obviously in love with the lady seated next to him. His coarse beard was gone, and he looked thinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t notice George right next to him. “Whatcha looking at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!” Richard shouted, hiding the photo frame. It didn’t look like Paul now that he was a fish, but he didn’t dare risk letting George recognize him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last of the alcohol was pilfered and George led Richard out of the ship, leaving the picture behind. It was for the best, Richard decided, too painful a reminder of the world they had left behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re back!” George announced triumphantly. “And we’re loaded!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” John hummed. “Everyone, say goodbye to the submarine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye submarine!” George said with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn’t say anything, arms folded across his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, submarine,” Richard said, voice scarcely above a whisper.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Dark Caves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richard no longer had his journal with him, but he still composed entries in his head to clear his thoughts. The submarine crash was precisely on day thirty of the voyage, but now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he was an octopus for starters. In a way, these foreign waters had brought a kind of rebirth. The weight of being a failure in his parent’s eyes, the monotony of day-to-day life, the loneliness and isolation, it was all gone. And Richard had to admit, he joined the expedition for this, did he not? He wanted an escape from his mundane life and he got it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, it was Ringo who composed a new journal entry in his mind, not Richard.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Day one</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT THE HELL!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He might have a new life now, but it didn’t change the fact that it was insane. He had eight tentacles and was clumsy using them at best. Sometimes he had these bright blue rings all over his skin and sometimes he was just pink and there were suckers everywhere that he couldn’t control them either— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a lot. Ringo didn’t consider himself to be a stubborn guy, pretty malleable, in fact. But even the most flexible and open sage would be struggling. Everything that had transpired changed the fundamental rules of his world and Ringo didn’t know how to handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he didn’t. He stayed silent and let his two new fish aquaintances lead him through the twisted undersea caverns.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jojo, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. Or JoGeo: John and George. They were two bandits, criminals, but they were the friendliest people he met so far. Paul might have been his captain, but his dejected nature kept him distant. From the way he silently carried the stolen luggage to his constant spacing out, it was painfully apparent that he was not interested in any form of companionship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George, on the other hand— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you can sleep with us until you get your own little cave, or you can just hang with us, I don’t mind either way,” he prattled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I do,” John hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the giant shark’s opinion is more important than yours,” Ringo hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, John’s just a big softie— he wouldn’t harm a hair on your pretty little head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John huffed and turned his head away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm serious, Ringo. You can live with us— It'll be fun having another guy around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Er, thanks," Ringo said. This level of hospitality was unprecedented, and he found himself thinking about what living with John and George would entail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about Paul?" Ringo asked after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's welcome to stay, too. Honestly, I'm just really excited ‘cause things have gotten lonely after everyone moved away," George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you mean?" Paul suddenly asked. "There were more people here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah… there was Pattie, and Cyn, Stu, Klaus… a whole bunch of us, but then," he paused, searching for the right words to use. "Some humans found us, and everyone else left to stay safe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you two are still here—" Ringo began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can we not fuckin' talk about it?!" John snapped. "They abandoned us and that's that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John, they don't hate you—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hostility was enough to make Paul glance at Ringo, silently asking what had occurred. It seemed that Paul wasn't the only one here with emotional baggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at that moment Ringo decided that he would be friends with George. And besides, if a leafy seadragon could make friends with a tiger shark, so could he. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You two are gonna haveta feed yerselves, though,” John said. “And don’t expect me to bail yeh out of trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kinds of trouble?” Paul asked, the only thing he ever spoke for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, just the abyss dwellers. The freaks, as John puts it,” George explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They're scum. They lurk in the depths and eat other merfolk,” John spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is why I’m friends with John,” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I thought it was for me charming personality,” John muttered. “As long as you two stay in the shallows, you’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I doubt anyone would try to eat Ringo,” George said, Paul raising an eyebrow at the nickname.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that some kind of insult?” Ringo asked, ignoring Paul’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re poisonous,” John and George stated at the same time, a fact that would have made Ringo blush if his skin wasn’t already pink. Of course he was poisonous— he was a blue-ringed octopus. The bright circular pattern on his skin was a warning to predators.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But Paul’s not poisonous in any way, and John mentioned having to gather food. That implies they don’t have a lot to eat, and marlin is a big game catch…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With a stutter, Ringo asked, “I-Is it weird to eat fish if you’re half-fish yourselves?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fish eat other fish,” George said. “So no. But we don’t eat merfolk if that’s what you’re wondering. We’re not killers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Except when it comes to humans, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought darkly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t blame me for getting jumpy around a shark,” Ringo instead said. Along with his new body, his animal instincts were screaming at him to run away from the massive predator, but logical reason won out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George has the opposite problem,” John said. “First time we met, he headbutted me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, that was great!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Great?! It fuckin' hurt, yeh bastard!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two kept bantering among themselves, leading the convoy through the frigid tunnels. A terrible feeling of unease wormed its way into Ringo's gut as he swam along. The caves looked the same no matter where he looked, and his arms were sore from dragging along all the food George stole. Even swimming was taxing, with Ringo lagging behind Paul and John, who swam ahead with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he could voice any of his concerns, George pointed ahead, darting forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sunlight filtered through a small opening in the cave wall, the bright light welcome after miles of dark chasms. John whipped his tail and dashed through, George following, but Paul didn't move after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you okay?" Ringo asked, drifting behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… I don't know," Paul whispered. "I don't know what to feel anymore—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo reached out and grabbed Paul's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey. It's gonna be alright," Ringo said. "I know everything's insane right now, but if we turned into fish-men, then I can bet there's a way to turn back. It's not hopeless."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Paul didn’t reply, Ringo assumed he was falling back into his defensive silence. Then, "...do you want to go back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean," Paul said, "there's nothing left on the surface, for either of us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— we have all the time in the world to figure it all out," Ringo said. "Let's just take these two blokes on their offer of a free home, yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded, even if his eyes were downturned and dark. "It's safer than trying to figure it out on our own."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, you two!" John shouted back. "Are yeh coming or not?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re coming!” Ringo called back and swam forward, pushing through the water with all eight tentacles at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light. When Ringo could finally see again, he looked up at the sun filtering through the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like he was in another world. Beautiful, vibrant forests of kelp and coral filled his view, and the warmth of the sun hit Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them moved ahead, past a field of white sand, through a large bed of gently swaying seaweed, and then finally reaching a sloping rock formation, with several caves visible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were faint carvings in the stone, as well as small structures like walls and fences, but they were all weathered. A plot of sediment was set up, perfect for a garden or a farm if it wasn’t overgrown with weed. Only one of the caves had something resembling a stone door, the same one John and George were headed for. Ringo marveled at how effortlessly John slid the makeshift door out of the way. His power would be a great asset to have… as long as he didn't find out Ringo and Paul were actually Richard and Captain McCartney.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cave itself, more of a cubbyhole, had a main chamber and two side rooms. George beelined for the left room, but not before beckoning Ringo and Paul to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He overturned his cloth bag and watched as all his pilphered valuables fell out onto a large stash of treasure. Jewelry, gold, gems, and anything that was shiny filled the room; it was George's dragon hoard. It wasn't limited to just expensive objects: there were all kinds of human paraphernalia littered about. There were small statuettes, globes, astrolabes, and mechanical parts that gleamed with their chrome finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow," was all Ringo could say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...this hoard is worth a fortune," Paul muttered, and Ringo immediately understood what he was implying. Should they need it, selling this loot would be an easy way to make money.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if he was psychic, George spoke. "Don't get any ideas," he growled. He then began to extract the liquor from the bag Ringo was clutching, Paul grimacing at the bottles.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry, mate, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo mentally apologized, hoping that Paul could pick up the meaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George placed the scotch and whiskey on a sort of rock shelf, next to numerous other spirits. There was a shockingly large amount of booze in the cavern, which just raised the question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>How do you drink underwater? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George then ducked out of the room and into the next, dropping off all the cans and jars of food. The speed at which he carried it out made it obvious that this was routine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," George drawled when he was finished. "What do you two wanna do now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fall asleep," Paul simply said. "...long day, y'know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I get that," George hummed before letting himself sink into the large pile of seaweed in the center of the cavern. The second George was in it, he turned invisible, his body and fins blending in with the kelp. With a gesture from his hand, he beckoned Paul and Ringo over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tightly packed weed was like a lumpy, yet firm mattress. As Ringo settled onto it, he realized that he had never shared a bed with another man, let alone three. He shifted, turned over, stretched out, curled up, then stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why? Why was it that after turning into an octopus, sharing a bed was what was tripping him up? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get comfy. Paul, too, was ramrod straight, very obviously uncomfortable. Ringo could see him stiffen as George brushed his tail against Paul's.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't matter in the end. Ringo and Paul were emotionally exhausted, and welcomed the embrace of sleep, even if George was far too close for comfort. They needed a break, a release from the twisted reality they were living in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was rather calming, feeling the cool sensation of the water wash over him. Even in this strange place, there was tranquility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't know what time it was, but eventually, he woke up to the sounds of voices speaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was out cold, practically sinking to the ground. He looked as though his body had turned to stone, face expressionless. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George… I know you mean well, but we can't live with these two."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"And why not? They're completely harmless."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The hushed whispers that drifted into Ringo's ears rose him out of unconsciousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"The last time we let someone into our home, bad shit happened."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"John, that was </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>ages </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>ago. I'm sorry about your mother, but you can't keep living like this."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>At that last statement, Ringo froze. The water around him felt stagnant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like a switch flipping, everything began to make sense. John's mother was taken and killed by humans and now he guarded the tunnels to slaughter any humans that dare approach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo felt every blood vessel in his body clench up. John's mother must have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>Julia. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His heart was pounding. Make no mistake; John would murder Ringo and Paul if he ever found out they were human. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Piss off," </span>
  </em>
  <span>John said, swimming out of the cave and into the dark sea. George sat up and watched him leave with a worried look in his eyes. He sighed, then whispered: "I know you're awake, Ringo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn’t respond, hoping that he misheard George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can see your rings. You're glowing all over." Lo and behold, he was, the cavern illuminated with a faint blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," Ringo said. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine. I probably should've left this place with everyone else all those years ago… but I won't leave John." He stretched out, flexing his hands like they were the claws of a cat, and wormed his way back into the bed of seaweed. "He’s a nice person deep down, but he never shows that side of him anymore… I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You shouldn't have to worry about stuff like this," he said. "G’night, Rings."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night,” Ringo echoed, letting everything he learned wash over him and marinate in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter if they were human or not. If Ringo told the truth to John, he’d think he was delusional. Even so, he had to tell Paul about Julia, and then come up with a plan. Were they really going to live with George and John? What about the other crew-members, were they alive? Transformed? Safe? Ringo couldn’t ignore the possibility of them being alive, but how would he go about looking for them? The ocean was vast and deep, virtually an infinite expanse to comb over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. It would be smarter and safer to stay put. And besides, he should be discussing all of this with Paul. There was no use thinking about it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Ringo let himself ease into the bed and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow I’ll have a plan.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Surrender to the Waves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, I just want to say thank you for reading thus far! I'm glad to know that you've been enjoying the story so far and I hope you like what's to come.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Ringo awoke, he flung his hand out over the bed to stop his alarm clock. Time for another day of doing nothing. He blinked repeatedly to get the sleep out of his eyes and then opened them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forgot he wasn't on the submarine anymore. He was miles under the surface and had magically turned into an octopus. Around him was the sight of a small cavern, a bed of seaweed in the center,  and a blue marlin next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul cleared his throat. Ringo's hand was not touching an alarm clock but instead Paul's left pec. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, sorry!" he said, pulling his hand off. He hoped that he had no visible blush or any of those damned blue rings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you remove your tentacles?" Paul then asked, making Ringo tilt his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now why would I want to remove them? They're a part of my body."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean," Paul said, "from me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo looked down to see that all eight of his tentacles were wrapped around Paul, which was amazing considering Ringo didn’t notice at all. He tried to move them off and found that he couldn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Richard," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm trying!" Ringo hissed back. All of his suction cups were glued to Paul, and pulling them off just hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on," Paul grumbled as he began to tug on the tentacles. They were still sealed on, and Paul was grabbing at them, trying to rip them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul, please don’t—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>let go!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Paul roared, and Ringo flung himself to the furthest edge of the cave, blue rings showing. Faint red circles were visible where Ringo was attached to Paul's silvery skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I'm sorry," Ringo squeaked out, staying as still as possible. Paul sighed and ran a hand through his thick, black hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you… glow like that every time you're scared?" he asked after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… yeah," Ringo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry for yelling," Paul mumbled, looking away. His voice had taken on a quiet tone. "I'm better sleeping alone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, it's my fault," Ringo hastily said. "I didn't mean to do that, it just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t control them yet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed, but it was an absent gesture. Ringo honestly found himself envying the older man. To him, swimming must have been second nature, darting through the waters without a second thought. But to Ringo, it was as if each one of his tentacles had a mind of their own. It took all of his mental concentration to get them to work in unity. He liked octopuses, but he never wanted to be one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could stew in resentment any longer, a gross, viscous sound filled the cavern, the sound of a stomach growling. Neither one of them had anything to eat in the past day, and they felt it. Paul cast a glance at the stockpile of cans in the back but shook his head. They were guests, it would be rude to presume they were entitled to John and George’s food. The worst part was the fact that neither one of them was in the cave to ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were alone, a fact that Ringo took advantage of. “Hey, there’s something I need to tell you,” he said, “about Julia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she was John’s mother, and that’s why he’s so pissed at humans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul took a glance out of the mouth of the cave and huddled over Ringo. “We should leave, then. John’s not our friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we need friends!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Richard,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Paul said. There was a sternness to his voice that Ringo immediately recognized as his captain’s voice. “John will want us dead when he finds out the truth, and there’s a chance that whatever magic turned us into fish will change us back. We need to leave now and go to the surface,” he ordered, pointing a finger at Ringo. There was a flash of blue, then the sound of Ringo slapping Paul’s hand away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not my captain,” he growled. “You never were— so don’t order me around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swam to the exit to the cavern. “And my name’s Ringo now,” he called behind him, not looking to catch Paul’s expression. Ringo had to admit that he raised decent points, but he was just so mad at Paul. He… </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>being down here, under the waves. It felt natural and satisfying, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle sliding into space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew why Paul wanted to go to the surface; he wanted to be alone. He wanted to be far away from everybody, isolating himself. Ringo didn’t want to be alone with Paul. Even though he had known his captain for thirty-one days now, he was closer to George after just one. It might have been selfish, but Ringo wanted a friend to talk to, not a brick wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the dark cave behind and moved into the sunlit reef. Down the rocky slopes, he saw John laying on his stomach, chatting to George floating upside-down next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! Ringo!” George called as soon as they made eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Ringo said. "What time is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Daytime," George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Summer," John added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Er… right, thanks," Ringo said, noting the distinct lack of watches and clocks around. "So what's the plan for today?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's a plan?" John whispered to George, who shrugged in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean," Ringo clarified, "what do you guys do every day?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get food, sink ships," John hummed. "Don't need much else."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, then looked over at Ringo. "I ate earlier," he said. "I would've brought you along, but you and Paul looked so comfy, all snuggled up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, right, uh… I'm up now," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, I'll take you to the forest. John, when Paul comes out—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, yeah, I know. You two have a nice date," he snorted. George playfully swatted his arms before taking Ringo and leading him up the sloping hills. They moved past the rocky outcroppings to shallower and greener waters, opposite the direction of where the tunnels were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Over here is what I like to call the gardens. Big and lush and green, really pretty," George said. "I usually hang out around here, so if you're looking for me, you know where to find me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see," Ringo said as a dense patch of vegetation rolled into view. The water around it was tinged green from all the algae and chlorophyll around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can show you where the little crabs hide and everything,” George continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m flattered,” Ringo said. “This place, it’s sort of your sanctuary, and you’re letting me in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just so nice to have someone new to talk to,” George said. “I want to know more about yourself, where're you from? ‘Cause I know you’re not from around here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo chuckled. “I’m from really far out, traveled a long way to get here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I can smell it. You’re from beyond the tunnels, aren’t yeh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I think so,” Ringo said, technically speaking the full truth. “My home got smashed up by an avalanche, and I found Paul and decided that it would be safer if I stuck with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wonderin’ why you were with him,” George mused. “He didn’t seem like your type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not, he’s just...” What was Paul? “...he’s sort of lost, in his head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange gnawing sensation grew inside the pit of Ringo’s stomach. Their conversation from that morning played out again in his head; was Ringo wrong for getting mad at Paul?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” George began, “that we should leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we just got here!” Ringo complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean the rocky cavern. We should move to the shoals where everyone else went— far away from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt John will like that,” Ringo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it’s what he needs! He needs to get away from this place, to warmer waters. It doesn’t have to be now, but when the time comes, you could help me convince him,” George implored. With the sad smile he was giving with those deep, dark eyes, Ringo was struck by just how incredibly lonely George was. Three years of living with a depressive, sullen John made him desperate for the companionship of others. And Ringo was just like him in that regard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, he felt an urge to hold onto George and never let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’ll help you,” he said. “We’re friends, yeah?” At his reassurance, a grin broke out across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Rings,” he said before gently grabbing him by the wrists and pulling him into the thick foliage of the gardens. The second George’s back was against the seaweed, he morphed into it. His fins looked the same as his leafy backdrop, and if it wasn’t for George’s eyes and mane of hair, he would have vanished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I already ate so I'll leave you to it," he said. With that, George sunk further into the foliage and out of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping down to the seafloor, Ringo saw tiny crabs and shrimp scurry away from him. He was well aware that octopuses liked to eat other sea creatures, but knowing and doing were two different things. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s better than eating kelp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he grabbed a small hermit crab and let one of his tentacles slink into its shell. He wrapped it around the crustacean and pulled, the creature coming out with a comical </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘pop!’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound. He watched as the crab wriggled its many legs trying to get free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt odd, holding a living animal, seconds away from killing it, but Ringo was hungry. He could taste the crab and its meat with his tentacles and soon was ripping into the delicate animal with his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midway through chewing the crab up, he noticed that he didn’t have teeth anymore. They had all fused into a solid shelf as if he had two long teeth instead of thirty-two. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It probably looks like a beak more than anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mused as he gnawed on the crab’s head. The remnants of his human mind screamed at him for his savagery, but Ringo didn’t care. The creature tasted good and he was still hungry and wanted more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another crab, this one larger and a lime-green color, appeared in front of him. Without needing to think, a tentacle snatched it up and brought it to Ringo’s lips. All of his tentacles were moving on their own, searching and grabbing up food.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How wonderfully useful, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought, before shutting off his mind to feast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was remarkable how easy it was. The tentacles and their suction cups were strong enough to break apart shells and soon Ringo found himself conscious again, full of crab meat, and not feeling sick at all. In fact, he felt better and healthier than before. He relished the feeling of crawling into the tiny crooks and crevices to catch the little animals that hid there. The taste of raw meat was undeniably delicious, and it hadn’t even occurred to him how odd it was to eat raw seafood. It all came naturally like he was meant to do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was so engrossed in his eating he failed to notice how he had lost track of George. He was in a thick jungle of kelp, no seadragon or rocky caves in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He… was lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A jolt of panic rocketed down Ringo’s spine before he stopped himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George? Where are you?” he called out. There was no need to be afraid. George wouldn’t abandon Ringo in the gardens, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried calling out again but there was no reply. But Ringo was patient and would just wait. He would have retraced his steps, but everywhere he looked, the same sight of thick green seaweed greeted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another few more minutes, he gave up waiting. He flexed his tentacles and began to swim upwards, towards the surface. He had to know; could he still breathe air?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He broke through the surface and took a deep breath. In all his life, he could never anticipate what happened next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard Starkey had spent the past twenty-four years of his life breathing air, and now… he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t breathe anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gasped and sputtered, knowing this was wrong but still staying above the surface. Maybe if he tried harder he could—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something grabbed him from below and pulled him back underwater. He saw George looking at him with an expression of concern, but Ringo couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of blood and water pumping through his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...ingo! Ringo!” George shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo tried to reply but his mouth felt too dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, are you with me? What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I— I just—” he almost sobbed. The only thing in his mind was the urge to go home, back to the surface. He was human, he wasn’t a fish, he didn’t belong here. This was stupid; this was mad. He should have never gotten on that damn submarine! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, George reached over and embraced Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sheer shock made him lose control of his emotions, but George calmed him down. His physical presence served as an anchor, keeping him grounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...thanks,” Ringo muttered weakly after George loosened his grasp minutes later. “I’m just— christ...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know something heavy’s keeping you down,” George said. “And I know it’s a secret, but if you ever need someone to talk to...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” Ringo said. “But... thanks anyway.” He cast a glance towards the surface, where the setting sun awaited but closed his eyes when a pang of sorrow hit. He couldn’t go back home anymore. It was easy to accept all the changes that had occurred, but the pain at realizing everything he loved in the past was gone… he felt so cold, and if it weren’t for George, he would have lost all hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's just… go home," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, George stayed silent the entire trip back to the rocky cavern. He would have used the word home, but images of his flat in England came to mind and his chest ached. But still, swimming over the rolling hills to the familiar cliffs was calming. Along the way, Ringo noticed several small shells and rocks that were pretty to look at. Staring down at the ground was much more appealing than the oppressive expanse of blue all around him. Sometimes, he would catch glances of George picking up colorful sea slugs, swallowing some, and holding on to the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he drifted along, a new conundrum presented itself. The submarine voyage took a month to get to the bottom of the sea, miles below the surface. How was it that he was able to make it up? He didn’t recall the tunnels going upwards, and he knew he didn’t swim that high to get to the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter. Very few things in this world made sense. He would have to puzzle it out later when he wasn’t so stressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they got back, the waters were darker and lit up with the warm hues of sunset. John was lazing about, soaking up the last rays of the sun he could, with Paul next to him silently eating a can of beans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Johnny! We’re back—” George said, excitably bounding over to John, who turned to look. “I got you something,” he hummed, showing off the (disgusting) slugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Georgie, you’re the best,” John cooed as he took the creature and let it slide down his throat, an action that made Ringo want to gag. Paul shifted and faced away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he wants one?” George asked, gesturing at Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naw, he’s just daft. Says he won’t eat fish so I had to give him that. Y’know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>food,” John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go talk to him,” Ringo said before George could offer. He swam over to Paul, hunched over the can like it was a lifeline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there,” he greeted, and Paul looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey… Ringo,” Paul said in response, looking down into his can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How're you holding up?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not," Paul grit out. "I’m gonna go to bed early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word, he rose and drifted into the cavern. Ringo fully expected him to use one of the abandoned caves, but didn’t. Didn’t he say he slept better alone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to think about everything that was happening was too much. He rubbed his eyes and went over to John and George, who were very subdued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys,” he greeted, George reciprocating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo, you didn’t happen to see anything out there while you were at the gardens, did yeh?” John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex is late,” he said. “He should’ve dropped by today and I’m worried he got eaten by a whale or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whales don’t live around here, John,” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but you know what I mean! He’s never late,” John replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you actually worried about him, or the business?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both,” John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but who are you talking about?” Ringo interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magic Alex. He’s our trader. We loot subs, and he takes it and trades that junk with the river clans.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Ringo said, not knowing what they would need to trade for or who the river clans were. Were they freshwater fish?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, John, you know he’s alright. Probably just got distracted along the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John huffed, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” was all he said before swimming back to the cavern. George shook his head and winked at Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He acts like he doesn’t care but gets all worked up when he’s not on time,” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo hummed, then looked out across the sea. The sun must have sunk even further below the horizon, for everything was now dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should head back in,” George said. “The abyss people like to come out now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swam away darting off just as specks of light began to appear in the depths. They looked like twinkling stars, but Ringo knew they were living creatures. But he had to wonder, were these lights dangerous? They looked beautiful, illuminating the dark, hostile sea. He reached out to follow—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, come on, let’s go back to John and Paul,” George whispered, dragging Ringo away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He resigned himself to the fact that all he did was get dragged around now, nothing making sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he could do was hope that someday it would.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Down and Uprooted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When they all retired into the cavern, Ringo found that he wasn't sleepy in the slightest, neither was John or George. It was more that they were hiding from the barrage of lights outside. John hefted the massive stone that served as the door in front of the entryway, and nothing could get in or out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Paul asleep on the floor, they had all stayed quiet, George furrowing an eyebrow at how heavy he was sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know why he's so tired," George hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's 'cause he don't eat," John said, and that was that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo spent the bulk of the night going through George's treasure stash, finding all sorts of goodies. There was a record player, which was useless without electricity, but still novel, some books in all kinds of different languages, and several compasses and clocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eventually saw the glittering golden rings on the bottom and picked a few up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, George? Do you mind if I take these?" he asked, holding up the gold bands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," came George's reply from the other room. With eagerness, Ringo slid on the rings and watched at how the gemstones shone. They all must have been worth thousands, which was funny considering he didn't even have pants on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they passed the night by sorting all the cans of food. John didn't participate, and George was sorting by color, not food group.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you pass me that can of chowder?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhh, which one is that?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The one that says 'Clam Chowder' on it," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stopped and looked at him funnily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you… telling me you can read this?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah..." Ringo replied. "You can't?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within seconds, John was on him, tackling him to the ground and knocking over the can pyramid. He shoved a book in Ringo's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you can read, then what does this say?!" he shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a copy of the Holy Bible," Ringo groaned, looking at the leather-bound book. John's eyes widened and he began to pace around the room, muttering to himself. Then, he stopped, turned, and asked: "Can you teach me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose I could..." Ringo trailed. He had no idea if John was serious. He didn't seem like the studious type, but he looked incredibly eager. "Do you have any books?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John darted out of the room and came back with a stack of books. Ringo flipped through them, most were handbooks and manuals about ship operation. He saw private journals but didn't read them out of decency. There were some works by Shakespeare, but that would have been too complex for Ringo or John. He eventually settled on Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, which was a children's book. It was full of nonsense, fitting for the situation Ringo had found himself in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began to read the book to John and George, who both listened with intent. It was strange, for he fully expected John to laugh or jeer at the book, but instead only interrupting for questions. What are roses? What's smoking? Stockings? With every inquiry, Ringo answered as simply as he could. John hung onto his every word, having never heard of anything like the novel before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Humans are so daft," he said with a smile, before letting out a small yawn. George was completely passed out next to him, and Ringo felt sleepy himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He folded one of the pages over to serve as a bookmark. It was damaging to the paper, but the book was already waterlogged. "I can keep reading it tomorrow," he said, putting it down. He moved over to get on the seaweed bed and realized he had a small problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was on the edge of the bed, George next to him, and John on the other edge. It meant that Ringo had to choose between sleeping next to the giant shark man or the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't a difficult decision. Ringo crawled in between John and George and let himself fall asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ended up dreaming that night of the surface, but he was a human again. He kicked with his legs to reach up to the sun, to breathe air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he didn’t choke. He could taste the salty sea-breeze and when he looked up to see the sun, it was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In its place was an angler fish, one that saw Richard flailing in the water and dove down with a monstrous grin to eat him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he was still human, he would have woken up drenched in sweat. Instead, he found himself staring at the roof of the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also discovered that the four of them became tangled up overnight. John and Paul were sandwiching George and him, with tentacles and leafy fins splayed all over. George was firmly wrapped around Paul's midsection, and John had swung an arm around Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were… so close to each other. Ringo could feel John's heartbeat echoing through the cave. It was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>remarkable. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was in awe of John in that moment; the soft rise and fall of his chest, the pure relaxed expression he had never seen before. He had always seemed so caustic and aggressive, but here in the quiet moments of dawn, he was a different person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that tranquility was not to last. John’s eyes fluttered open, he yawned and stretched, and his face morphed away from its blissful expression into an excited grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mornin’ Rings,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” Ringo replied uneasily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do yeh have anything to do today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, not really— ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! Then you can teach me to read.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Wha’re...What’re you two talking about?” Paul groggily asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for waking you,” Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul, did yeh know Ringo here can read?” John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded, then worked at removing George from his side. “So can I,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You both? Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” John exclaimed, slapping his forehead in disbelief. At the sound of his voice, George woke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul, if you teach me how to read, I’ll let you have your pick of the grub,” John offered, jerking his thumb at the stash of cans. “Fair trade, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to learn too!” George chimed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alrighty, it’s a deal!” John shouted before Paul could even reply. He pushed the heavy stone out of the way of the door and swam out of sight in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...He didn’t even give me a chance to say no,” Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’d really appreciate it if you taught us,” George said. Maybe it was the way George looked smaller at that moment, but Paul let out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I will,” he said, not wanting to upset George. Besides, it would give him something to do. Daily life on the rocky hill included getting food and not much else. They needed a hobby, lest they become too aware of how endless their days were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George seemed placated, but then swam out of the cave before Paul could begin to discuss lessons. He seemed like he was in an odd hurry to get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Ringo decided to let Paul worry about the teaching. He would find his own hobby, his own meaningful way to spend each day. He used to have drumming as his favorite pastime, but he couldn’t control his legs well anymore. That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that he had no one to play with, nor music to listen to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John did sing before, though. He’d have to ask about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strolled around the hills, searching for something of interest. He eventually settled on exploration and methodically went to every other cave in the area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like George had said, everyone moved away. The different caves had evidence of being lived in, but all were empty. What surprised him were the tools and trinkets scattered about. Bowls, spears, woven pieces of fabric, painted murals on the wall, and even rudimentary stone furniture. John and George had none of these luxuries in their cavern, living more like talking animals than people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he moved from cave to cave, he saw what looked like coins, beads, jewelry made of sea glass, then noticed an abacus and a tablet with strange markings and symbols carved into it. There were short strings of characters, followed by numerous tally marks embedded into its surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There used to be a civilization here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. People lived here and had rules and laws and systems and </span>
  <em>
    <span>society!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder George wanted to leave. The idea of society, culture, was too much to give up. Before exiting the last abandoned home, he took stock of the statue inside, a muscular torso of a man. The person who lived in this cavern must have been an artist. The statue wasn’t made of the same rock that the hills were made of; it was a pale quartz or marble that gleamed from the tiny beams of light piercing through the roof. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Images of the overgrown and neglected patch of sediment came to mind. The statue was unfinished, its bottom completely destroyed. What was there was pretty, so Ringo hefted the statue onto his back and crawled out of the cave. Something this nice shouldn’t be going to waste in that empty cave. The landscape could really do with some sprucing up as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made it a grand total of five meters before Paul saw him and gave him a hand without another word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, mate,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to hurt yourself. What’s this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found it in one of the caves. I think it’d look nice out here, in that little bit of land,” Ringo explained, pointing at the abandoned plot of land. Paul nodded and swam with ease despite the heavy sculpture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived at the site and found a nice, large boulder to place the statue on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It kind of looks like Poseidon or something,” Ringo mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks like John,” Paul said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at the statue, Ringo could see what Paul meant. The figure had a bulky physique like John’s, albeit slimmer. The face was uncut and rough, but it had a strong, straight nose, and a heavy jaw. If everyone had left three years ago, then this statue must have been of a younger John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I forgot about that,” John’s voice came from behind them. He swam forward, and rested his hand on the glittering stone. “I remember when Stu was workin’ on this.” He then looked at Ringo. “Why’d yeh bring it out?” he asked in a darker tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- uh- thought it would look nice out here— It’s really bright and nice and everything out here is kind of drab—” Ringo rambled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… ‘suppose so,” John said before turning around again. Ringo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I’m not mad or anything,” John called back. “You can keep doin’ what you’re doin’. Stop gettin’ all nervous ‘round me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you know I was nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The rings,” John said, pointing at the blueish tentacles before leaving. Ringo looked down at the offending appendages and wanted them to fade away faster. Of all the changes that occurred in the past few days, the rings were the most annoying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a nice idea,” Paul said. “Cleaning up this little farm area.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was thinking of making it more of a garden. I’m not really in the mood to eat seaweed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo started to look over the overgrown space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you mind helping me pull out all this?" he asked, a task Paul readily agreed to. Together, they uprooted everything, returning the sediment to a blank canvas. As they worked, they made light conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where John went?” Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went to what he likes to call the ‘Hunting Grounds.’ He tried bringing me there yesterday to get me to eat, but… it was disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I guess eating other fish would be pretty bad now that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not me,” Paul interrupted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>John. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He ate like a savage. He just ripped them up and scattered their guts everywhere.” He let out a shaky sigh. “God, it was like he wasn’t human anymore, y’know? I know I have to eat something, but I couldn’t. Not after seeing that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can bet,” Ringo said. “I sort of spaced out while I was eating crabs yesterday. It might be a merfolk thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I pray it’s not,” Paul muttered, tugging on a particularly rooted strand of kelp. “Did the crabs taste good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did, yeah. There’s a bunch in this kelp forest George took me to. Maybe it’ll be easier for you since they’re not fish,” Ringo said. “I think Geo’s there now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell into silence and kept at their work, finishing their cleaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Paul. You were a huge help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was no trouble at all,” Paul said. He had done most of the work but his larger frame was able to handle it without a sweat. That is, if they could even sweat anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice doing that,” he then said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Ringo asked. “Pulling up weeds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in Paul’s face softened. “Yeah, I used to live on a farm,” he said. “We had these sheep and chickens and well… we were watching them run around and we realized we couldn’t kill and eat these guys.” Ringo listened with rapt attention. He felt a swell of pride; Paul had trusted him enough to open up about his past. He knew that Paul lived on a farm from the photograph on the submarine. By ‘we,’ Paul was talking about him and his wife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was practically a vegetarian too. I had these awful allergies, couldn’t eat any seafood. Living on a farm sounds fun, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was, it was really great. You have to give up a lot of luxuries, but it’s nice just working and taking care of the animals. It’s a simpler life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Kind of like things now,” Ringo said. “Except instead of farming, it’s fishing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked at him quizzically before giving a hesitant nod. “I guess so,” he merely said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo spent the rest of the day decorating his new plot of land with small stones and shells he thought were pretty, a sentiment George shared when he came back from the gardens, albeit a little out-of-sorts. He was particularly amused by the statue but made no comment. As soon as John came back in sight, however, everyone was forced to retire back into the cavern. The doorway was covered up, and they all bunkered down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know if it was a John-and-George thing or a merfolk thing, (The term </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anthropisces </span>
  </em>
  <span>felt wrong to use, especially since John and George called themselves mermen.) but Ringo loved the physical contact. George was half in his lap as he leaned over to watch Paul write the alphabet in the dirt. It was weird the first night, but he had grown to like it after just three days. Even Paul was comfortable with John leaning over his shoulder, pressing into his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that sight alone, you would have thought they were best friends. They all must have looked that way, all huddled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they were becoming friends, in a sense. John made no more references about having to feed Ringo and Paul, nor any mention of them leaving. George was still as amicable and friendly, but there were times where he would retreat. He explained it as a compulsion to hide away, and Ringo let him go to the gardens when he got in his strange moods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept working on his garden project over the next upcoming days. The scraps of fabric and jewelry Ringo found went onto the statue, and whenever he made a trip to the gardens, he would bring back little plants. It was getting a little cluttered, but it was bright and colorful and he could hear Paul giving his lessons as he worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all very quaint. He had a routine now, he had a hobby, and a goal. This was living, and Ringo enjoyed his little slice of it very much. Time passed and barely noticed at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the tenth day since waking up as an octopus, seven after accepting his new life, a change appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dark figure in the distance approached at midday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, John? There’s someone over there?” Ringo called out nervously. He wanted John because he felt very scared at the distant figure and whatever they were trailing behind him. It was different, and different was dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John squinted at the silhouette, trying to make it out. "Son of a bitch," he swore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo felt afraid. From John's words, he knew that whoever that was out there wasn't a friend. But then, he saw the massive grin on John's face and felt even more terrified.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Magician</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello, everyone! This chapter is a bit longer than the others, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The ominous shadow that loomed in the distance drew closer, its form becoming more visible. There was a man on top who seemed to be clothed, as well as having an extraordinarily long tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” John shouted and Ringo wanted to scream at him. He did not like whoever this newcomer was. He did not want John to call him over!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the distant figure waved and began to approach. Dread bubbled in the pit of Ringo’s stomach. This stranger was big, far larger than him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t notice his blue rings were showing until John swatted his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just Alex,” he said. “He’s a bit scummy, but he won’t eat yeh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded, but his rings wouldn’t disappear. He hoped that John was right because Alex was now within earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, well! Johnny!” he shouted, his thick accent matching his exotic appearance. Ringo had only seen three other mermen, but Alex was unlike any of them. His tail was massive, trailing behind him like a meaty ribbon. He was lean and slightly muscular, with gold bracers around his forearms and a billowing, sleeveless, white robe on. A crimson and gold sash hung loosely around his waist, and he wore a choker that matched his bracers as well as his marbled yellow, black, and white skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He resembled a Greek god for a moment, with his equally expensive and exotic clothing and sandy-blond hair, but there was one off-putting detail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had the face of an eel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, John was a shark-man, but he had a human face and torso, as did the rest of them. But for some reason, Alex had a giant moray eel snout and beady little eyes instead of a flat face and nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell me you had guests over, I would have worn my nice clothes!” Alex said, and Ringo could see the elaborate pattern on his skin extend to the inside of his mouth as well as his rows of broken glass teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Ringo moaned. He needed to get out and away from Alex’s jagged fangs </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John reached over, grabbed Ringo, and held him in his arms before he could get away. “Alex, this is Ringo. He’s a little timid, but he’s a nice lad,” John said and Alex leaned over, sniffed, and held out a clawed hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Puh-leased </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make your acquaintance,” Alex said. “My name is Alexis Mardas, but most just call me Magic Alex.” Ringo shook his hand and tried to look anywhere but his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was gettin’ worried ‘bout yeh,” John said. “It’s mid-summer now, you’re never this late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex shook his head. “Ah, all the merfolk out here have been acting strange. First Cyn found this sick lobster-man and I had to get some medicine for him, then this psychotic mantis shrimp started stalking me, and then there was this killer whale that was patrolling the area. It was absolutely insane,” he said. “I had to take the long way to get here. I couldn’t risk hurting my babies.” He then bent over and Ringo realized he was so distracted by the moray that he didn’t notice the cart Alex was on, nor the two manatees pushing it along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jimmy and Jemima are looking as beautiful as ever,” John hummed, petting the two beasts. They were manatees, Ringo was certain, but they were a species he had never seen before. For starters, they were bigger, resembling sea oxen more than sea cows. Underneath their harnesses and yokes were some unique skin patterning. One was black and white, resembling a granite countertop, while the other had splotches like a calico. Ringo gave them a small pet before Alex spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So where’s George? I got a lot of good stuff in here I know he’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s in the cave with Paul,” John said. “Ringo, go get ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was more than eager to go to the cavern. The two predators outside were making him afraid, even if he knew in his mind that they weren't going to attack him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George," he called as soon as he was in the cave. “There’s a scary eel-man out there—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Alex!” George interrupted, before darting into the backroom and grabbing all of the pilfered booze and treasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alex. He’s the reason we loot the human boats. He takes it all and sells it to the river clans, then trades the stuff they make with us.” George hefted a basket full of treasure onto his shoulder and looked at Paul and Ringo. “...what’re you two staring at? Come on, help me move this stuff out,” he ordered before swimming out to where John was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this Alex like?” Paul asked once George was out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a moray,” Ringo said. “Big teeth. But he also has a huge cart full of stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...do you think he would have a map?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, something lodged itself in Ringo’s throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you need a map?” he asked. “You want to go home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Paul quickly said. “George, he’s mentioned wanting to go South numerous times, I just want to know how far that is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo hummed. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him if he’s got one, then,” he said. Ringo filled his arms with golden trinkets, and Paul got a large trunk. The two headed out and listened to George ask: “How’s Pattie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s fine,” Alex hummed, looking over the contents inside George’s basket. “Although, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> started eloping with a river clan fish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” George asked, then in a quieter voice: “Well, what is he like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he’s great! Pays </span>
  <em>
    <span>pre-mee-um </span>
  </em>
  <span>For booze.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course that’s your only concern,” George scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I say? I am an entrepreneur, not her friend. Why does it matter to you, anyway? You haven’t spoken in years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… I don’t...” George trailed. He seemed to almost cave in on himself for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa-oh!” Alex suddenly shouted. He jabbed George in the shoulder. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had loads more! Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>my goodness!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whooped and went over to Paul and Ringo, looking at all the treasure they had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all yours,” John said. “Now show us what you got.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex grinned with his disgustingly sharp teeth and went to his cart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have all sorts of things,” Alex said. “Feel free to browse!” he said, opening the sidewalls of his cart to reveal his wares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo saw how Alex had used every single square inch of the cart to its full use, stuffing as many different objects as he could. There were balms, salves, lotions, ointments, and oils and bottles lined up in neat rows, next to tanks of foliage and strange sea-creatures crawling inside. Jars of spices and fruit and nuts lined the shelves above the tanks, and following that were racks with all kinds of gorgeous silk fabric hanging. There was metalwork, what looked like to be weapons and armor, along with jewelry. Behind that was a screen in the back of the cart, and bushels of a bright purple flowery seaweed were visible. On the roof of the cart were all kinds of dried products, ranging from bundles of fine flowers to large cuts of meat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, John went straight for the charcuterie. Ringo felt a wave of nausea as he ran a thumb over the hanging tentacles there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t cut these off of Pete, did yeh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not. Although, he did donate some of his ink,” Alex said, causing John to grimace. “Ringo, was it? Can you make ink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh no, not really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, shame. I would have paid well for that. Anyway! George, I got those slugs you like so much,” he said, opening one of the tanks and pulling out a fat, iridescent sea slug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was odd to see George, cool-as-a-cucumber George, start to drool over the juicy creature being waved in front of his face. He snapped forward trying to get a bite, and Ringo realized that he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>fangs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah-ah, control yourself!” Alex playfully scolded, putting the treat away. “That guy cost me extra, I’ll have you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George whimpered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But hey, you’re family, so I’ll getcha a discount.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about books?” John asked. At his inquiry, Alex stopped and gaped at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...books?” he murmured. “Like, to read?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, to eat. Of course to read!” John snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, I have many, I just didn’t know you were interested in reading.” Alex bent over and slid open a long drawer full of scrolls and rolled up parchment, as well as a few tomes. “What are you looking for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John paused, and seemed to blush a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo, Paul, you pick some,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curiously, Ringo picked up one of the large scrolls and unfurled it, examining the fine illustrations on it. The top had artwork of the heavens, with stars and constellations he didn’t recognize. There were seven faceless figures around the borders of the pages, all of them merfolk and dressed in elaborate armor with flowing robes and capes. The divine figures implied that the merfolk have some kind of religion and gods as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving on from the drawings, he saw that the paper was a large map and quickly tried to see if he recognized any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul!” he shouted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Paul!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This map, it’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked at the chart, his brow furrowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you!” he shouted at Alex. “Is this map accurate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you implying that I would sell a faulty map?” Alex shot back with indignance. “All of my goods are one-hundred percent bona fide </span>
  <em>
    <span>real. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s the highest quality you’ll ever find!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo looked back at the map with disbelief. If this map of the world was real, then that meant they were no longer on Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was little land on the map, just endless swaths of ocean. Ringo saw what he could only assume were the tunnels he arrived in, referred to on the map as “The Gate.” The closest land was to the South in a chain of islands neatly labeled “Lacus Archipelago,” with the largest titled “Viridis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re right here, Alex said, pointing at an empty section of land (water?) that bordered two areas labeled “The Wastes” and “The Plains.” In the middle of the wastes was a large trench. Further North was an icy continent. East were cities and towns marked down on the map, then colonies and countries as the ocean was divided into several sub-sections.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo could have stared at that map for hours, just trying to wrap his head around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were… cities inside of countries, with roads and routes sketched out. There was an entire world outside of John and George, with politics and order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wherever it was, it was far away from Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, enough gawking! If you want to stare, you have to buy,” Alex said, snatching the map away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...sorry,” Paul said. “I need a minute.” With a flick of his tail, he went back to the cavern, Ringo trailing behind him. He could see Paul tremble slightly as he swam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not on Earth anymore,” Paul said once they were out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ringo said. “...it’s unreal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think that if we go through those tunnels again, all this will be reversed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo thought back to the map, with the golden letters that read, "The Gate" stared back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you might be right," he said. "But even if it did turn us back, we would drown."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's true," Paul said. "So we can't go back at all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It explains why we're so close to the surface, or why we weren't crushed by pressure down here," Ringo mused. "But, if I were to be honest, I wouldn't want to go back anyway. There were towns and stuff on that map. All of this… it's like a second chance at living."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked at Ringo with a wistful look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad," he said. "Because I didn't know what I'd do if my only friend down here wanted to be human again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sentiment filled Ringo's heart with an undesirable feeling that made him feel like he was flying. Paul wanted to stay, but most importantly, with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"H-H-!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a sharp inhale, and when Ringo looked to the mouth of the cave, wondering what it was, he saw Alex shaking, pointing at Ringo and Paul with his long nails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You two… </span>
  <em>
    <span>are humans!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, time froze as the realization dawned on Ringo. Alex knew. If Alex told John… </span>
  <em>
    <span>they were dead.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Time resumed, Paul lunging forward and grabbing Alex, one hand clamping his snout shut and the other wrenching his arms behind his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can't let him tell John!" Paul shouted over the muffled screams and thrashing Alex was doing. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we have to keep him quiet!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can't kill him!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't!" Alex shouted, having wriggled out of Paul's grip. "If you do, John will smell my blood and </span>
  <em>
    <span>slaughter </span>
  </em>
  <span>you!" He broke free from Paul and flashed his fangs. "Humans— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Humans! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can't believe it—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then don't! Pretend you never heard it and leave!" Ringo begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no, no, no— I can't do that when such a golden opportunity is present!" Alex cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul had a mask of fury on his face. "What're you on about?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Isn't it simple? If I tell John, you'll die, guaranteed. So… you'll have to give me some incentive to keep your secret."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're going to blackmail us?" Paul asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that the human word for it? Doesn't matter, we got work to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We don't have anything to give you! Ringo shouted. "Please, we don't deserve this—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're right. Every human deserves to die, so I'm actually doing you a favor!" Alex snapped. "You two came down in a submarine, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded; Ringo was too paralyzed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. I am nothing if not incredibly practical, so we're going to go to the sub and loot it!" </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's not an eel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's a snake.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't do a thing about this," Alex said. "You can't touch me at all, or as John would put it: '</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yer fooked, mate!</span>
  </em>
  <span>' " he shouted in a nasal accent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked tense, poised to attack. Ringo had never seen him with such determination and anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, come on, chop-chop! I don't have all day!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With reluctance, Paul and Ringo left the cave feeling an invisible gun pressed against their backs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why are we—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," Alex hissed. "You're in no position to talk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They swam out of the cave and in the direction of the tunnels, past John and George who were still loitering around the cart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wanted to scream. He truly was trapped and as much as he wanted John to come to the rescue, he would have made everything worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, long after the rocky hills were out of sight, Alex finally broke the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, we're gonna find your little sub and you two are gonna protect me while I go through it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George already got everything," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>George </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn't know treasure from trash. He's an animal, him and John."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like you're any better!" Ringo snapped back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, it's nothing personal," Alex said. "I just want to turn a profit. I'd stay far away from this dump if it wasn't for the fact that John's the only guy who sinks human ships." Ringo must have made a face because he immediately said: "You see, I don't have friends. I have partners. And right now, you two are my partners. Get it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, whatever,” Ringo grumbled. He just wanted to take Alex to the sunken ship and get out as fast as possible. He wanted this slippery bastard gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t even know where the submarine was in the tunnels, but Alex seemed to know on an instinctive level, leading them through the caves with no effort. On closer inspection, Ringo noticed that he was following a small trail of bug-like crabs scurrying in a line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George can't clean these ships out at all, and John doesn't want the hassle of dealing with the crabs and worms. He doesn't care about the trade, just wants to kill," Alex said. "Those two are basically ferals like the abyss dwellers. George is the only thread keeping John from snapping."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo saw Paul's expression darken but they both stayed quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you two hate me, but I recommend getting out of here as soon as you can. Really, I mean it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t act like you care about us,” Paul said through gritted teeth. “And don’t act like you know them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex chuckled. “John said you’ve been here for ten days. I’ve known them for years. I’ve seen what they were like before and how far they’ve fallen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you haven’t,” Paul said. “All you see when you look at them are spreadsheets and profits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And all </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>see,” Alex began, “is a bloodthirsty predator waiting to kill you. Stop acting all haughty and get to work,” he said. Up ahead loomed the submarine, far more destroyed than before. The currents must have spiked and dragged the vessel around, shattering and splintering it. It was wedged in a shelf of rock that looked like it was seconds away from crumbling. More concerningly were the massive creatures skittering around. They looked like mermaids, with their humanoid limbs, but their distorted bestial maws screamed otherwise. They hissed as soon as the party came in sight. A particularly large worm-like monster laid crouched in front of the door, slightly bigger than Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, tubby,” Alex said to Paul, “kill them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those things have razor-sharp jaws that can sever my head. I’m not going to deal with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul grimaced, then looked uneasily at the creatures. It wasn’t that he was scared, for Ringo knew his ex-captain was fearless, but it was his inner pacifist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to kill them,” he said. “Human or merman or animal, I’m not a killer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well get it out of here then!” Alex hissed before grabbing Ringo by the arm. “You’re going to be my meat-shield.” With that, he waited for Paul to deal with the mutant worm. He examined the area around him before hefting a large boulder up and shoving it at the beast’s mouth, its jaws closing in and almost shattering the rock. He then grabbed it by its tail end and dragged it away as quickly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a final glance of empathy before Alex ushered Ringo inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The submarine had begun to rust and corrode, and the damage that it took made it look more like an ancient ruin than a familiar home. Ringo had to be honest, he felt no sense of nostalgia for this place. He just wanted to leave and pretend this day never happened. It would have been great to go back to the cavern and pretend he wasn’t human at all. He wanted to cuddle with his friends and not think about how Alex said John was a stone's throw away from snapping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they explored the ship, the hull creaked and moaned. Alex led him to the bridge, where worms and crabs and isopods were resting on the ceiling. Alex broke one of the consoles and started ripping the computer parts out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know about human technology, yeah? Go get stuff like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo’s head nodded and he drifted across the submarine to the communications room. He felt oddly detached. His mind kept flashing to thoughts of comfort, and the dark reality that He would either have to eat out of Alex’s palm or run away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brushed the strange creatures crawling on the communication equipment away and grabbed it all. Radios and sonar and screens, all of which cumbersome to carry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An ominous creaking sound flooded the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex had popped in behind Ringo. “We should get going before this place falls down,” he said. “Any last things you want to get?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo thought hard for a moment. “...No,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, then let’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A deafening crash echoed through the hull, and the entire ship began to yaw, the ceiling getting dented and cracked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?!” Alex shouted to the outside before a giant worm hurdled towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Paul cursed, an arm holding his side where it had stained the waters around him crimson. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was hurt. There was a worm-beast more than twice the size of the last. The caves were crumbling. His rings were a brighter and more acidic blue than they had ever been before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo!” Paul shouted again as the beast reared its head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo unfroze, dropping all the electrical equipment he found and swimming to Paul as fast as he could. The cave ceiling was starting to tremble, boulders and debris crashing to the ground. "What's going on?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The giant worm-beast roared and swung its colossal tail, caving in half the submarine and slamming it into the cavern walls. As the cave grew more unstable, the creature shrieked louder and louder, snapping its jaws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex yelped in pain. The worm's thrashing had caused a mixture of shrapnel and stone had trapped him by his tail, and with the beast looming over him, his fate was sealed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go!" Paul said, ignoring Alex’s panicked screams, or the way he was begging for Paul and Ringo to save him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please! Don’t— Don’t do this!” he screamed. “I’m sorry— I’m sorry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul shook his head, and began to leave, sealing Alex’s fate. Seeing him go made Alex stop his pained shrieks, growing deathly silent. Even the worm was taking its time, now that its prey wasn’t fleeing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wanted to go back and help, but he wasn’t strong enough to push the debris out of the way, nor kill the predatory worm.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry, Alex, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought, even if he didn’t feel that much remorse. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You reap what you sow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He swam forward to catch up with Paul and collided with the older man’s back. The cavern was due to collapse soon, yet Paul was as still as a statue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God-dammit,” he muttered, then, in a flash, whipped his tail around and darted back over to Alex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tackled the worm from behind and down to the ground and quickly began to lift the rubble pining Alex down. He said nothing in response, just stared at Paul with his wide eyes before wriggling out from under the debris. Once he was free, he dashed for the exit of the caves, not looking back even once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worm-beast got back up and snapped its pincers at Paul. It was directly between Paul and the exit, and if he didn’t get out soon, the cavern would collapse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul!” Ringo shouted, before realizing he needed to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Paul was going to die.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He went to the worm and did the only thing he could think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bit it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a pathetically small divot in the beast’s hide, but it caught the monster’s attention enough for Paul to get around. The worm dove forwards to snap Ringo in half and Ringo could see his gruesome ending.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the beast stayed still, unmoving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was the poison from Ringo’s bite or the fact that he was glowing the most brilliant blue he could, but it recognized that attacking Ringo was not a wise idea. It rose, made an odd series of clicks, and crawled back to the now-demolished submarine, sliding in-between a crack in the rocks and out of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Ringo could even ponder what had happened, Paul grabbed him and dragged him out of the cave right as a stalactite was about to crush him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Paul asked, holding Ringo and frantically checking every inch of his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine, it didn’t get me,” Ringo said, heart still beating. His blue rings had diminished, but still very visible. “...You let Alex go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul froze. “...Yeah, I did. I—” He paused to take a breath and run a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t leave him for dead. I know he’ll tell John, but I couldn’t abandon him," he said. "And I have to thank you for saving me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Ringo said, “it was like my body just moved on its own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’d be dead if it didn’t,” Paul said. “But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s gonna tell John,” Ringo finished. “It's over. We’re gonna have to run away to the South—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t,” Paul said. “We’ll talk to John, we’ll work it out. Come on.” He gently picked up Ringo and began to swim through the tunnels to find the way back to the rocky hills. Even if he didn’t know the route, he could just follow the line of creatures in reverse. Ringo felt faint and shaky, growing increasingly more anxious as they approached the exit of the cave. His mind was racing too fast to even prepare what he was going to say to John. Would George take their side, or against them? He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There they are!” John shouted as soon as they were out. He barreled over and put his hands on his hips and greeted Paul and Ringo. “Greedy bastards, you could’ve died in there!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They gaped at John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't tell yeh 'bout the worms in there. They're natural killers."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...they definitely proved it,” Paul said, letting go of Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can see that nasty gash in your side,” John hummed. “And yeh got nothin’ to show for your efforts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was flabbergasted. Either John knew and didn’t care in the slightest, or Alex had kept his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But seriously, don’t do that again. The Bobbits down there will kill yeh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know,” Paul said. “Where’s Alex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back at the cart with Geo. Came here in hysterics, said you two were trapped. I was ‘bout to save yeh meself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We appreciate it,” Paul said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John nodded, then caught sight of Ringo, with his rings still showing. He lunged forward and grabbed Ringo from behind. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Those worms stay in the tunnels, they won’t get yeh out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right,” Ringo stuttered, painfully aware that the worms were the least of his concern at the moment. John began to saunter ahead in relatively high spirits, Paul following in silence, and Ringo struggling to keep up. Normally, he would have cursed the fact that he wasn’t as strong a swimmer as the other two, but if he wasn’t an octopus, Paul very much could have died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated his rings for making him so transparent, but now? He felt proud of them. Their glow was so brilliant and intense and unique to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With trepidation, they approached the cart, with the same two manatees in the front, and the same slippery moray on top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In seconds, George was all over Paul, examining the cuts on his side and already fretting over them. Alex watched from the top of his cart in silence, staying eerily still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on, I’ll get something to wrap this in,” George said, swimming off to the cavern. They all watched him go, John following. Then, Alex cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began, and Ringo felt his stomach clench up. He braced himself for wherever horrible words were about to spew from Alex’s maw. “I should apologize,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...what?” Did Ringo mishear that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It appears… that I was too hasty in my evaluation of you two. You two were born human, but you’re too noble for that to be the case. You’re merfolk, one of us,” he said. “I apologize for the way I acted before. Your secret’s safe with me. Not like John would believe me anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe what?” George asked, holding a bundle of seaweed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, these incredible deals! And since I have two brand-new customers here, I’m offering a discount!” Alex proclaimed, shifting from genuine to over-the-top. “You two are in the family now, and family gets special deals—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve never given us a ‘special deal,’ yeh snake,” John grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, it applies to all four of you,” Alex said. "The point is, you guys are a good bunch of fish," he said, looking at Paul and Ringo. He then opened up the shelves and drawers in his cart. "There are things more valuable than profits, so feel free to take what strikes your fancy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John's jaw dropped at Alex's sudden generosity but let Paul and Ringo scour the book collection. All of the titles were written by merfolk, not a single human author in the collection. As they parsed the books, Alex was busy scribbling on a tablet, marking down the items that John and George were selling, as well as what those two had already bought. All the while, George wrapped up Paul’s wound, tying seaweed around his midsection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up with an assortment of books and scrolls, some maps, some art, and John had acquiesced and begrudgingly bought the giant sea slug for George. Everything was squared off and soon Alex closed up his cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well now,” he said. “I believe I have long overstayed my welcome. My fellow kin, it has been wonderful doing business with you. I will be back next season, so you better have lots for me to buy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we will,” John said. “Now get out of here, yeh bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With pleasure,” Alex hummed. He grinned, then snapped the reins for the manatees and slowly began moving out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what came over him,” John said. “ ‘Family discount’ and all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you complaining?” George asked between mouthfuls of slug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, jus’ found it odd.” He picked up all the food he had bought and headed towards the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Alex left, Ringo had to wonder: did he really have a change of heart? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What a strange creature," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Ringo said, then looked down at the map in his hands. "But still..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said, "as long as we stick together, we can figure it out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something stirred deep inside Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We've made it this far," he said and smiled up at Paul, who was looking back at Ringo with such a fond look that made him melt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like he was brimming with affection for the older man, but before he could think about what his feelings meant, John shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul, Ringo! Come in, it’s gettin’ late!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo broke his gaze from Paul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” he said. “Let's head in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you,” Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex had said they were family. Even if Ringo didn't like the eel-man, he had to admit one thing:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nowhere else was more of a home than here.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Blooms in the Rough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Alright, yeh marlin bastard," John said. "Eat." With his stubby claws, he tore off a hunk of a dried manta wing and chucked it at Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes were on Paul as he picked up the meat, brought it up to his lips, sniffed it, and then finally handed it off to Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John groaned, George let out a quiet hum, and the sound of chewing filled the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why the fuck won't you eat?!" John shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can choose to eat whatever I want," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but yeh gotta eat something! Are yeh gonna chew on rocks instead?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not going to kill fish for fun like you," Paul gritted out. "So don't criticize me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John huffed, then reclined back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever. Doesn't matter to me if you starve or not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn't want to point out the contradiction in John's words. From George's resigned expression, he knew this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had all kinds of new exotic foods from Alex, enough to feed Paul even if John thought it was foolish. It was odd; Ringo had grown so used to crabs and shrimp that simple nuts and fruit were alien. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George," John called. "Tomorrow, we're gonna go huntin'." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shrugged in reply, then looked over. "Do you two want to come along?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an innocent question, but one that had many factors to consider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about the worms?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll take care of 'em," John said. "An' the big ones don't show up immediately."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul cast a tense glance at Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, Paul's still hurt, and I don't want to leave him alone," Ringo said. Nevermind the fact that the currents in the tunnels were strong enough to blow Ringo away or the fact that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>change them into humans again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That last point was a little irrational, but impossible to dismiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can go with John and I could watch Paul—" George hastily offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, I'm not trading you for Ringo," John said, and that was that. Besides, a day with just Paul sounded lovely. George was good company, but the ex-captain's presence brought a sense of joy. He wasn't exactly uplifting, but he was more reassuring, comforting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With three out of the four full stuffed full of seafood, they drifted off into a slumber. The others had already fallen asleep, but something was keeping Ringo up. The residual adrenaline from the day had yet to dissipate, leaving him shaky and insomniac.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took several moments to realize he felt… </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It made him feel dizzy to admit it, but he was. During the day Ringo had fallen into a role of acceptance, rolling with the punches and waves. It was hard not to. Paul and John and George all had secrets that were dragging them down, so someone had to keep them upfloat. During the day, he hadn't allowed himself to feel sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every thought he had pushed to the back of his mind came flooding back like bile rising up his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A strange world, with no way to get back home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John, who lashed out with anger and hatred at every turn, all to mask his dwindling sanity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex, who proved how little friends Ringo had, and how he was despised for what he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Monsters and beasts looming in the depths waiting to rip them to shreds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the submarine was now destroyed. There was nothing on that ship that he needed, but to see it completely demolished had served as a painful reminder that this was permanent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could talk all he wanted about second chances, but the truth was that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing was familiar anymore, nothing made sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept lying to himself and Paul whenever he said he didn't want to go back to Earth. A part of his mind, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>human </span>
  </em>
  <span>part, wished he had never met Yoko. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul… Paul was the only real source of stability he had. He kept no secrets from Paul, and he could talk to him without needing to hide anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing Paul's sleeping body gave Ringo the urge to hold him. Was that weird?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...well, they already cuddled in their sleep. He doubted Paul would mind too much, and if he complained, Ringo wouldn't do it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaustion was setting in, he wasn't thinking straight, and decided to go for it. With that, he wrapped his arms around Paul's midsection, above the seaweed bandages, and drifted into a soft sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the next day rolled around, he awoke to the sight of Paul sitting up, gently leafing through one of the texts they bought from Alex. The entryway to the cavern was open, and the other two were already gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Ringo,” Paul hummed as he flipped a page. “Sleep well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was about to reply when he remembered that he was hugging Paul, the silvery skin warm from under him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit— Sorry,” he muttered as shame began to wash over him. Why did he think that was a good idea?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… don’t mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul closed his book and put it down. “Not really. And besides, I don’t have the heart to say ‘no’ when you looked so comfy.” Paul stared at Ringo, unsure of what to say to continue, and Ringo felt so awkward and foolish. Paul’s words were polite as if he was saying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t like it, but you saved my life yesterday so what do my feelings matter?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, uh… do you want to do anything now that it’s just us?” Ringo asked, not liking the way he felt scrutinized under Paul’s stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, I would love to go out for lunch with you,” Paul replied in the most emotionless, deadpan voice he could muster. Most likely he was mocking the fact that there was nothing to do, but a dark part of Ringo’s head whispered to him: </span>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t want to spend time with you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stupid question, sorry,” Ringo said. “And you’re injured so...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul scoffed. “You and George fret too much. It really doesn’t hurt at all—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you were bleeding!” Ringo blurted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying to be a tough guy,” Paul said. “John’s the only one who’s treating it normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess… but I bet if I got my head blown off, he’d laugh and tell me I was overreacting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got a chuckle out of Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you maybe, just wanna walk around then?” Ringo asked. “And find stuff for the garden outside?” Every split second Paul didn’t reply made him feel sick. After an eternity, (three seconds) Paul nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo felt a burst of energy and then stopped himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt way too anxious at the thought of Paul not wanting to go with him, and far too excited when he agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re overthinking it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You just care a lot because he’s your only friend right now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was a passable answer, but it left something gnawing at his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They set out, Ringo deciding it would be best to head to the gardens. Not the small plot of land in front of the cavern, but the dense kelp forest that George resided in. All the scenery around them was rocky, grey, craggy, drab, and generally boring to look at. Every day, the idea of heading to the mythical South became more alluring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they passed over the more open sea, Paul spoke. “We’ve gotten so used to living here,” he said. “Remember our first day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually. I think I was too much in shock to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? You seemed right at home since the beginning… I was a little jealous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I’ve always thought about how neat it would be to live underwater. It’s like living out a fantasy,” Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed. “I thought I would have lost it by now. I’d have nightmares where I was human and then I’d wake up and I couldn’t breathe for a bit— It was scary. I think the books and the maps and the reading helped, but I guess what really did it for me was this dream I had last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened in it?” Ringo asked and Paul looked him straight in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I got a tiny pirate hat, and some old ladies kept trying to take it," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What an inspiring tale," Ringo snarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, what happened in it wasn't important, it was that I was a merman in it. Tail and scales and everything, and I didn’t notice or care at all until I woke up. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm guessing it was a nice dream, though,” Ringo said, noting the soft smile on Paul’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It… </span>
  <em>
    <span>was,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Paul said, turning his head away so Ringo couldn’t see the warm flush on his face. “Things are… well, they’re nice here, but they’re better in the South.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I don’t know how you’ll convince John to come along,” Ringo muttered, seeing a bright spiral shell and picking it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t need John to come with us,” Paul said. “It can just be us and George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But George’ll never leave without John. If he could, he would’ve done it years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then it'll just have to be us. If we get out of here, it’ll be warmer, and those abyss-monsters won’t get us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just… give it some time,” Ringo demurred. “I don’t want to leave George behind like that. I mean, those two guys have done a lot for us,” Ringo said. “I know John’s rough, but he’s gonna take it personally if we leave him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It shouldn’t have to be our responsibility to deal with him,” Paul said, his jaw growing tense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but I like George, and I don’t want to leave him. Don't you like him too?” Paul stared at Ringo for a moment before unclenching his jaw and crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I do. You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I’m just nervous about what Alex said. He made it seem like John was going to maul us the second we turn our backs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to admit he was right. The same fear had consumed him yesterday, but he hoped that maybe his and Paul’s presence might be able to help him. Yet i</span>
  <span>nstead of voicing his thoughts, he snorted. “You’re telling me you believe the eel-man? After what he pulled yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— No. I don’t,” Paul blurted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then it’s fine,” Ringo said. “We can all convince John to leave this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But John is a stubborn git!” Paul exclaimed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>are we going to convince him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With patience,” Ringo said, a response that left Paul dumbfounded. “He’s a person, not an animal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, the conversation was over and Ringo redirected his attention to the ocean floor. The collection of glittering stones and shells laid there in wait, just begging to be taken. Having eight tentacles paid off when Ringo could use them to grab up everything in sight. His suction cups automatically held them without needing to think. With the pretense of gathering items for the garden, they pressed on, even if Ringo's true goal was to spend time with Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Rings?" Paul asked after they passed over a ridge adjacent to the kelp forests. "You see those flowers there?" Paul asked as he pointed to the underside of the short cliff edge. Looking in, Ringo saw nothing but the dark stone, jagged and lifeless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, his eyes adjusted, and the bright oranges and greens filled his view. Every crack under the ridge was filled with… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As a failed biology student, Ringo should have been about to identify them. He went through their features in order. They were colorful, bright fiery reds and oranges breathing amidst the cobalt. By all accounts, they looked like flowers, both extravagant and alien. But logically speaking, flowers did not grow in rocks. They did not grow completely underwater. They couldn’t, with the complete lack of sunlight, not even mentioning the fact that most aquatic flowers were in freshwater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flowers were an impossibility, so the vibrant blooms had to either be some weird anemone with floating tendrils, or coral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those aren’t plants,” Ringo murmured. They were some kind of animal— using the cracks in the rock as a shelter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without any warning, Paul reached in and grabbed at the creatures and tugged, ripping it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Ringo screamed. “Let it go— </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let it go!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Paul asked. “It’s just a plant,” he said as he turned it over, showing it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plants don’t grow like that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We’re not on Earth anymore,” he simply said, examining the plant and unfurling its long roots. “We should plant these. Make it a real garden, y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— I’ve never gardened before,” Ringo admitted, watching the long tendrils wrap around Paul’s arm. Plant roots weren’t supposed to do it. Earth plants, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if I can grow tomatoes, then we can grow these. We have all the time in the world to,” Paul pointed out. He then returned his attention to the plants in the shade, reaching and pulling them out with a gentle grip. They didn’t yank them out, instead going slowly as to not rip the roots. As Paul took them out, he handed them off to Ringo to hold with his hundreds of suction cups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t like them as much now that they had turned Ringo into the living backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the orange ones were gone, they spread out to search for more. Discreetly, Ringo slid out and away towards the greener rocks, where he knew he could find some small crabs scurrying about. He was hungry, but at least he had the decency not to kill and hunt in front of Paul. Speaking of the ex-captain, Ringo saw in the corner of his eye how he threw himself into the task. He was physically bending over backward to worm his way to the blossoming plants. With Ringo’s snack break and his fervor, Paul had found twice as many as him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flowers felt like wet lace, spongy yet fine, and as they worked, the tendrils reached for each other. It was like they were reaching out to hold hands, making a long chain. They were very much flora, with no animal parts to speak of. No mouths or limbs or eyes, just their long, sentient roots. Ringo thought it was enough, but Paul kept at it like a machine, not needing to slow or stop. In fact, it was Ringo who had to stop him, pulling him back when his stomach growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul gave a sheepish apology and they went back home, trailing behind long chains of flowers. The orange popped against the silvery blue of Paul’s skin, and Ringo felt an urge to make leis or crowns out of the plants they found.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George would look cute with one too, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his mind supplied. </span>
  <em>
    <span>John too, with his dull green skin.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the rocky hills had pulled into view, Paul wasted no time in swimming over to the statue standing over their small garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his experience and far more skilled hands, Paul undertook the task of planting the flowers, digging them into the sediment. With how efficient he was, Ringo felt no guilt in weaving together the plants to make leis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was relaxing, and the garden looked gorgeous with how Paul had planted the blossoms, making a natural gradient from the pale yellows to the intense reds. It looked like a sunset, and it was elevated by the warm hues that filled the waters around them. It was getting late now, and there was no sign of George or John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today was a good day,” Paul hummed, breaking his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo would have said he had a lovely time, but then he caught sight of John and George in the distance. His initial reaction was to bound over to them, but his instincts told him something was off, and as they got closer, he was proven right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two were swimming with a large gap between them. John made no movement towards the main cavern, instead veering off to the side. George was watching him go, drifting along at a pace far more sluggish than usual. He looked dejected, barely lifting his head and clutching his left arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo abandoned his project and went to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what happened?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had a spat, is all,” George said in a quiet voice, slightly hoarse. Ringo looked over to the empty, partially-collapsed cave John had retreated to. “Don’t bother ‘im,” George hastily said.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, like I’m suicidal enough to try.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he hurt you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head. “Aside from me feelings, no.” He let out what was supposed to be a laugh but instead came out as a strangled whine. “What’s that you’re doin’ over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, planting flowers,” Ringo said, George gravitating to the plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you find these?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Near the gardens, hiding in the rocks,” Paul said. George hummed, bent over, and ran his hand across the blooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know these could grow here,” he said. “I thought nothing could grow here except the seaweed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They’re pretty, aren’t they? Paul was the one who found them and planted them," Ringo said, feeling happy when Paul smiled at his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s good that they’re so small,” George said, plucking one of the flowers out of the ground. “They can’t eat you at this size.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...they what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These plants can grow huge where it’s warmer,” George said, “but like this, they’re perfect. The garden looks amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Ringo said. George rolled his shoulders and massaged himself before sinking into the flowerbed. Seeing him so still made it clear he was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to take a nap at that point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The lights are here,” Paul muttered, causing George to jump up. The sea before them had turned into a mass of distant, twinkling specks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right...” he murmured. “Let’s head in, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They retreated into the main cavern, George casting a forlorn look at the cave John had hidden in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I need to get something real quick,” Ringo said, dashing out of the cave. He went over to where he was working, picked up the leis, and went to John’s cave. </span>
  <span>He wasn’t going to risk pestering John when he was in such a foul mood, but he hoped that he could appreciate the floral necklace that he put down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he went back to the cavern and Paul moved to seal the door up. Even if he was a marlin, he wasn’t a shark. It took some finagling before the stone would sit securely in the doorway. After that, he swam over to the collection of cans and tried opening one before he realized he couldn't. His blunt nails couldn’t even scratch it, while John’s could shred it to pieces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me,” George said, holding his open hand towards Paul. He was handed the can and wasted no time bringing it to his lips and ripping it open with his teeth, before handing it back. Paul gladly took it, not minding the fact that he was sharing spit with George. He was too hungry for the slices of pineapple inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was quiet, aside from Paul’s soft chewing. The silence made Ringo nervous as if he was about to give a presentation in school and the whole class was watching him. George’s warm yet searching gaze was fixated on the flowers behind Ringo’s back, and Paul followed George’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh,” Ringo cleared his throat. “I made you two something,” he mumbled, holding out the leis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn’t have much of a reaction, seeing as he was present when Ringo weaved them, but gave a warm smirk regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a necklace,” Ringo explained. “I thought you’d like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a… gift?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pointed at himself. “For me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...” George’s brow furrowed. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘Cause I thought it would look good on you,” Ringo said. He still held the lei outwards, wondering why George was being so hesitant. He was about to pull it back when George finally took it and put it over his head and let it fall until it rested on his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The concept of receiving gifts, not as a reward for doing anything but for simply being was incomprehensible. He kept staring at the flowers floating around his shoulders before finally grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love it,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he said, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spun around, letting the lei swish around him before giggling and nuzzling the flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Ringo,” he said. “But what about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you like it, and what about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George gestured at his neck. “Why don’t you have one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were bright orange flowers around Paul and George’s necks, and maybe (but most likely not) John’s as well. In his haste to please the others, he had neglected himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot,” he admitted. His answer caused Paul to chuckle warmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make you one tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we can make him a flower crown!” George shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded and George’s smile grew even bigger. “It’s a date, then,” he said, before stretching out and crawling over to Paul and Ringo. With his arms, he brought them in for a hug. In response, Paul shoveled down the last of the fruit so he could drop the can and lay down with George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was remarkable. George had managed to completely worm his way into Paul’s heart, past his cold exterior. The first night, Paul was comparable to a stone statue, a far cry from how he was draping his arm around George’s shoulders now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was such a comfortable scene, but it made Ringo’s insides crawl. There was something about the sight that he didn’t like, making his heart feel like it was sinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here, Ringo,” George said, beckoning him. With those three words, the tension inside of him dissipated and Ringo slid right in between his two friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt so cozy, snuggled up between the two. It felt right, like two puzzle pieces clicking together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three fell asleep, their breathing and heartbeats falling into sync.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Emperor: Part One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a little longer and more intense than the others. There's some violence and blood.</p><p>Regardless, I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day was going to be great. Ringo had decided it the second he woke up, refusing to let John get him down. They were a team, and that meant he needed all members to cooperate. Paul was with him, as was George, but if he was ever going to get them to move South, he needed to change John’s mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, with a sense of determination, he turned to leave the cavern before stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was sealed, and Paul was still unconscious in George’s arms, who was examining Paul’s face like it was a fine painting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s handsome,” George said, “at least, he would be if he ever shaved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subconsciously, Ringo slid a hand up to his face, feeling the thin layer of stubble.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fish can’t grow hair, fish can’t grow hair, why do we all have hair?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt you have a razor, though,” Ringo muttered, wondering how awful he looked. His skin was pink, and he had bright blue rings, throw in his massive nose and </span>
  <em>
    <span>voila! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clown-central, dead ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s a razor?” George asked, gently touching Paul’s face in less of an affectionate manner, but more of a curious way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a human invention,” Ringo began. “It’s like a knife made for trimming facial hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” George hummed. “I like it when Paul reads books by merfolk and not humans. None of it makes any sense,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what parts are you confused about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George paused. “...Do you know what, uh,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “marriage is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Ringo said, “but I don’t know why you got all quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George cast a glance at Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were reading and we just started a story, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> story,” he clarified. “And the guy was going to get married and have a wife,” he said, going back to a whisper. “And I asked Paul and he started acting weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s a sore subject for Paul,” Ringo said. He didn’t know if the long-haired lady in that old photograph was dead or left Paul, but he knew Paul missed her. “But marriage is like a vow,” he began, “where two people say they’ll love each other for the rest of their lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” George said. “So like mates then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, actually. Exactly like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before George could say anything else, Paul’s eyelids fluttered open and he let out a dramatic yawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mornin’,” he drawled, eyes blinking lazily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” George said softly. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why… why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George straightened. “Nothing! I was just— checkin’ up, I suppose,” he stuttered. “Anyway, can you push the door open?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul’s gaze slowly fixated on the entryway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...suppose I can,” he mumbled, lugging his body over to the makeshift door and pushing it out of the way. He then raised a hand to his forehead and muttered: “Don’t feel so good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His scales had lost their sheen, and his eyes looked blood-shot. That was why George was staring so intently at him that morning. He was feeling ill and looked the part. Ringo imagined that if they were on dry land, his bangs would be plastered to his forehead with sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul closed his eyes and his body lost its alignment, drifting sideways and yawing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within seconds, George was gently guiding him down to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, take it easy today, alright?” he asked in a gentle voice, his accent far more subdued than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sick," he said. "I'm just dizzy. Stood up too fast."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to fight the urge to tell him that he can't stand anymore without his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George's brow furrowed as he unwrapped Paul's wound, examining it closely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't look bad..." he mumbled, looking over the injury. It was dull in coloration, but it wasn't swollen or red. Regardless, George began to re-wrap it with fresh kelp, tightly packed. "Just take it easy today," George said, brushing his hand across Paul's bruised hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'M not sick," he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing George tend to Paul made Ringo feel useless. He was there, unable to do or say anything since George clearly had things under control. Paul didn't need a friend right now, he needed peace and quiet to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the cavern and the bright rays of morning blinded him. Scanning the scenery, his eyes naturally went to where John was sleeping. The bright orange lei he had left there last night was gone. Whether John had taken it or the strange abyss-dwellers had, he didn't know. He prayed it was the former, although the latter was more likely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he saw John with flowers resting on his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Morning, John," Ringo hesitantly called out. John jolted at his voice and whipped around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't say anything, face emotionless, but his tail began to flick back and forth, like a bouncing knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, how'd you sleep?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...it was quiet," John said. "Where's Geo?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's inside," Ringo said. "Paul's a little sick, and he’s watching over him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s fookin’ sick,” John grumbled. “He’s starving himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not— he just doesn’t want to kill other animals. He’s not doing it to spite you,” Ringo explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s stupid,” John said. “It’s just...” he sighed. “It’s whatever.” John then noted the lack of a necklace on Ringo. His hand reached up to his own lei. “Did you drop this?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I left that out for you,” Ringo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his words, John’s gaze drifted back down to the vibrant flowers. “Yesterday, George was tellin’ me that we should head South. Got all pissy at me an’ everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So that was what their argument was about, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. He had his suspicions, and John had confirmed them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I jus’ wanna know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>are you gonna leave?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo paused for a moment. “I… it’s too dangerous for me to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” John groaned. “Do you want to leave? Do you want to get off of these shitty rocks?” His voice had taken on a sharp tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yeah,” Ringo admitted. At his reply, John’s expression darkened. He reached up and tore the lei off of his neck, throwing it at Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then stop pretendin’ to be my friend,” he hissed. “Piss off and get the hell out of my sight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a huff, John turned and swam away, back into the empty cave he had spent the night in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter what Ringo’s intentions were. He wanted to go, but he didn’t want to leave everyone behind. Thoughts of him with Paul and George flickered through his mind. In an ideal world, all four of them would go together, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he couldn’t help John if he was so desperate to be alone on these hills. You can’t befriend someone who doesn’t try. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was time to give up and leave him. Looking at George in the distance gathering up flowers made him realize something. George deserved better than John. They might have been friends three years ago but they certainly weren’t now. Ringo might be over-analyzing, inserting himself into a complex situation he doesn’t know all the details to, but George wasn’t happy. Was it selfish to just want what was best for George?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it wasn’t, Ringo decided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he went over to George, who quickly hid the flowers he picked behind himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a surprise,” George said, “so no peeking!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Ringo said. He felt warmer, being close to someone with such a bright smile. “I’m guessing I’m not allowed in the cavern, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, a giddy smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ll go out and find some more stuff for the garden, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When will you be back?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Around noon,” Ringo said, and when George cocked his head to the side, he explained: “Midday, y’know, like when the sun is directly overhead.” He pointed up towards the surface of the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a human thing, innit? All this focus on time,” George mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to ask. “Is it that weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Paul’s been tellin’ me all about it. And he’s gonna tell me more,” George said. “I’m not lettin’ him go out today until he feels better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, but make sure he eats properly,” Ringo said, John’s words echoing in his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ve done this before!” George said, before backing off into the cave, hands behind his back. “You go and have fun today,” he cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will do,” Ringo said, waving good-bye. All it took was that short conversation to wash out the bitter remnants of his interaction with John. He wanted the best for George, but he didn’t know how to go about it. His excursion today would be more for clearing his head than for the benefit of the garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was planning to convince John to come with them, but he was far too unstable. Now, his best bet was to get George to leave John. They had recently fought, so it should be easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But his mind kept nagging at him. Deep down, he knew George wouldn’t leave. It was fact, and that was hard to change. Never did Ringo expect loyalty to be such an annoying trait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As long as he had Paul, he would be okay. He would love for George to come with him, but sometimes you can’t have it all. Sometimes, you need to cut your losses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he knew that to be true, his heart still yearned to go back. He wanted to be with George and Paul and pretend that John was never a factor in his perfect little trifecta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, Ringo had reached the edge of the gardens, the kelp forest. It may have been his miserable mood that was tingeing everything grey, but the forest looked deader. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image of the discard lei John had ripped off came to the surface of his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Ringo pressed on. If he went deeper, he was bound to find more of the beautiful flowers, or perhaps some rare bioluminescent plants. It would be fun to explore, he told himself, a fine distraction. Who knows, these days might be the last he’ll spend down here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes scanned the bottom of the ocean floor, combing it for items of interest. The shells were getting more complex, with swirling patterns branching off into spirals. There were urchins, growing in size as he descended, their singular eyes peering at Ringo. He saw rocks that would crawl and slither.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here, alone, he felt the weight of isolation bear down on him, constricting and unmoving. The foreign creatures down at these depths were scary. Not because they crawled and scurried like little spiders, but because they were alien. He craved familiarity. Never had Ringo ever wanted to be home, wrapped up in a blanket, and sipping a cup of tea. Or smoking a cigarette while watching television.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was one thing he missed most, it was smoking. The urge kept rising up, and the worst part was he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, which he did, he couldn’t because he was a fish deep underwater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to sit down. No, what he needed was to go back to Paul and George. Their companionship would have kept him from dwelling on all these dark thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here, at the bottom of the ocean, he curled up and grew still. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Calm down, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calm down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus on breathing. Stay calm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In, and out. In, and out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was it so cold? Why did everything feel so… wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should just turn around and head back. Leave this place and go to where he knew he would feel better. He wanted to be with Paul. Paul was strong. Paul was comforting. He wanted George. George was kind. George was caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several long, drawn-out moments, Ringo slowly uncurled. His tentacles were wrapped around him like a protective bubble, and a part of him wished he had kept his eyes shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his distress, Ringo hadn’t realized that he had lost his way. It was frigid because it was deep. The gardens were nowhere in sight, nor was anything else for that matter. He could barely see anything except for black shadows moving in the depths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo trembled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a mistake. Why had he allowed himself to get so upset? If he didn’t, he would have paid more attention to where he was going. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s going to be okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. He would turn around and follow the path he came. He started crawling around, trying to look for something familiar. Surely some bizarre stone or shell would have left an impression. He remembered how Alex found the crashed submarine by following the trail of worms. There was hope, Ringo just had to keep it together. He couldn’t give in to panic, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to think anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to keep his mind clear. He was positive he was headed in the right direction. All he had to do was keep at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence in the depths became unnerving. There was nothing except what he knew on land as the howl of the wind. It must have been some ambient current, but Ringo couldn’t recall any sounds of currents when he descended. Sometimes, he heard clicking and hollow growls, sudden and startling. The creatures on the sea bed looked less and less familiar, with elongated limbs and pincers and tendrils. He didn’t recognize them, or any species resembling them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay calm, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You already know the creatures down here are alien. You already know the species aren’t from Earth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept going with the pretense that he was on course. Soon, he told himself, soon he would see the familiar green waters of the gardens. Soon, he thought. Soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was about to try to swim up, towards the surface, when he collided with something ice-cold. He could barely see, and when he reached out with his arms, he could feel it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fish with bony fins and soft, fleshy skin. It was long, but not overly large.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it began to glow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo saw its black pits of eyes peer at him, its lengthy body illuminated with a soft blue. Ringo could see its individual organs and bones through its translucent flesh. Its teeth hung out of its jaw and it snapped them at Ringo before darting off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All around him in the darkness, specks of light began to light up, and the terrifying realization came over Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This blackness that he was lost in, it was the abyss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flush of blue came over him as his rings lit up, causing Ringo to go into even more fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was lost. He was in the abyss. He had no idea how to get home. He had no idea what was around him. He had no idea what predators were here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, he was lit up like a beacon, practically begging for whatever monstrous abomination that lived down here to come and kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t breathe anymore. The cold became a sharp pain, making his skin sting. He became aware of the oppressive pressure down here, crushing his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to die, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he realized. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have to get out of here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he ran. He flailed his tentacles around, clawing his way out and across the abyss, begging some imaginary god to save him. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to be here anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have swum upwards, but the thought of being out in the open, with no anchor, no way to hide or protect himself made him nauseous. His lungs struggled to get air in— </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s no air here you can’t breathe you’re going to drown and die— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was becoming blurry. More nightmarish fish came out with their bone-like projections sticking out everywhere. Visceral teeth poking out of elongated maws at every turn. Nauseating lights everywhere. He felt like he was being strangled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he saw someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John!” he gasped out. “Thank God, </span>
  <em>
    <span>John!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure’s mighty tail twitched. Ringo could see his bulky body and the large fins that he was despising hours ago. John was here, which meant he wasn’t lost or alone anymore— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not… </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not John.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure was an eerie pale, his frame larger, yet more emancipated than John’s. He turned his head at Ringo’s call and revealed a giant plate sticking out of his skull like a sword. His eyes were blank, and his teeth were like rows of hooks sticking out of his mangled jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...” the figure said, his voice sounding like wind howling in a cave. “Is this one lost?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo froze. This stranger was not John. He had teeth and claws and looked like a monstrous perversion of John. He was big, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure drifted towards Ringo, using only the smallest of motions, making it look like he was levitating over like a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me… little one...” he hummed. “Why are you so scared?” Every word that came out was slow and chilling, like cold water trailing down his spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— I’m lost,” Ringo said. The figure gave a smile, showing off his razor-thin, needle-like teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure reached out and stroked Ringo’s cheek with his stone-cold claws. “Do not fear, Sun-Child… I can show you the way home,” he said in his haunting, whispering voice. Ringo could hear nothing else but the echo of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was screaming at him to not trust this stranger, but Ringo couldn’t ignore the allure of home. It was like the siren’s song, dragging him along, making him ignore all reason and logic. Home was where Paul and George were. He wanted home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not be afraid...” the figure chuckled. “I will watch over you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had no other choice. He had to trust this man, even if he was fearing for his life. His only rationale was that if this man wanted to kill him, he would have done it by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo gave a nod, a weak shake of the head, and the figure ushered him forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to ignore the pounding in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went on in silence, Ringo fixated on the shark-man. Black veins pulsated on his face, worming down to his torso. Did he have some kind of disease?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...w-what’s your name?” Ringo finally asked after working up the nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does not matter...” the figure said. “Do you wish to know why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo’s blood froze. “...why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The figure grinned, fangs glinting in the abyss. “Because you will not live long enough to use it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo heard the words and saw that malicious smile and realized that he was in danger. A primal fear took hold of him and thoughts vanished, leaving nothing but a pit of instincts.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Run. Hide. Run. Hide. Go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger charged at him, arms outstretched, claws ready to maim and kill. Ringo tried to get away, but he was faster. He grabbed Ringo, threw him to the ground, and sunk his claws into his side. Blood poured out as his wound burned, the deranged stranger cackling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reared up a fist and sent it crashing into Ringo’s ribs. He screamed, wailed, as his chest blossomed with pain at every shuddering breath Ringo failed to take in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another blow slammed into him, making him crash to the seafloor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t think anymore, everything shaking, his vision melting into a blurred trail of lights. He could barely hear the stranger’s primal roars over his frantic heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything felt red-hot, like his innards were boiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he noticed a crack, a crevice in the rocks that he was being mercilessly beaten into. He heaved, using every ounce of energy he into throwing himself into that minuscule crack. He squeezed in, his chest so crushed that every breath was painful and constricted. The jagged rock cuts his arms that had to bend awkwardly to fit in. The sharp movement left his head roaring with static, all his senses muffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tentacles bent and warped and stretching until they were all nested into the impossibly tight space. His heart kept pounding, threatening to break out of his crushed chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger gave him no quarter. He reached into the crevice, swiping at him with his talons, trying to get in to kill his prey. One claw snagged a tentacle and hooked into it, pulling it up, stretching it. He kept pulling, tugging, soon sinking into it with his teeth and shredding it to pieces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went numb. A dull wave of static washed over Ringo as he watched his limb get mauled, chunks of flesh getting scattered in the dark crimson waters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come out!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the stranger yelled in a distorted pitch, crashing into the opening to the crevice and clawing at it, raking his talons across the Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground shook. Every second, the stranger grew closer and closer to Ringo, digging out the mouth of the crevice so he could get it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nowhere else he could go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This crevice would become his tomb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo could barely think straight, feeling his body shut off. His lower half was completely numb, and all he felt from his chest was a burning sensation. He couldn’t even register that this was death. How quickly things went south… Yesterday, he picked flowers. Today he was dying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, the stranger stopped. His heavy breathing filled the air, louder than Ringo’s frantic heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The best part of the hunt… is the moment before the kill, when your prey has nothing but fear in their hearts,” he said, slowly regaining his composure. He tilted his head to the side, looking at someone outside of Ringo’s field of view. “Wouldn’t you agree… </span>
  <b>my darling son?”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no response to that question but a roar and a grunt. Ringo heard the sound of flesh-on-flesh, something having come to attack his assailant. He could catch glimpses of the stranger fighting someone else equally as large and terrifying. He saw the glint of teeth, the two digging into each other with their mouths and claws, ripping each other apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Go to hell!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>one of them howled, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go to HELL!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The newcomer kept punching Ringo’s assailant, bashing his skull in against the rocks. But the stranger grabbed the newcomer by the neck and threw him down into the Earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“Johnny-boy—”</b>
  <span> he cooed. </span>
  <b>“How wonderful to see you again.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“GO TO HELL!” </b>
  <span>the newcomer howled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“As you wish,” </b>
  <span>the stranger hummed.</span>
  <b> “I will always be waiting for you, my son.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>As his hollow voice receded into the void, Ringo looked up to see a familiar face peering in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John—” he rasped. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>John—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo?” John asked, reaching in to pull him out. It was hard getting out of the crack he had wedged himself in, every movement making his chest ache. John held him and put his hands on the side of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was saying something, his mouth moving, but Ringo couldn’t hear. Reality was a jumble, and he was unable to focus on any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John kept asking and Ringo tried to concentrate. He felt John’s hands holding him, the way his brow heavy with concern, the cold waters around him contrasting with his warm blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And finally, John’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” he asked, voice on the verge of breaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m—” Ringo began before breaking down into spasming coughs. John brought him closer to his chest, cradling him. Ringo could feel John’s heart thrashing in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t speak,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn’t want to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get out of here,” John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wanted nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was surreal, John carrying Ringo with such concern and care. He was never this gentle before, never this quiet and reserved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo would have passed out in John's if it weren't for the fact that John kept mumbling to himself as if his thoughts were too complex to reason out in his head. Ringo could barely hold on, couldn't even make out his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo, stay with me," John said. "We're almost home."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...home," Ringo echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George'll— George'll take care of yeh," he said. "He always did for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck are yeh apologzin’ for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo took a shallow breath. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jus’ get some rest,” John said. “We can talk about it later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they drifted onwards, the pain began to subside. Adrenaline stopped pumping through his body, and Ringo leaned into John, letting himself be carried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hazy questions began to form in his exhausted mind. How did John find him, who was that monstrous stranger, did John know who that was? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have passed out on the way because they were already at the rocky hills. In the distance was George, hovering like a concerned mother, holding himself. Upon seeing John and Ringo, he seemed to brighten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he noticed the thin trail of red behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” he asked, voice trembling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abyss-dweller got to him,” John said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abyss— What— Why was he there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” John muttered, his voice dropping in volume. “Geo. Can you… </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>just take care of ‘im?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo let them carry him into the cavern, where Paul saw him and quickly got up to help usher him down. His mouth was agape, full of too much shock to speak. George was all over his bruised ribcage, cleaning and wrapping the wound that the goblin shark had left in his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, Ringo?” Paul asked slowly and gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shark,” Ringo said. “He tried to kill me—” Ringo’s gaze drifted to John who was floating in the doorway awkwardly. “—But John saved me. He fought him off,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes turned to John, who seemed oddly flustered, his tail twitching back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off,” he grumbled, leaving the cave as quickly as he came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were you in the abyss?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was...” </span>
  <em>
    <span>upset, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted to say, but held his tongue. “...distracted,” he said instead. “I was near the gardens, and I wasn’t watching where I was going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked at him silently. George bit his bottom lip, his fangs threatening to burst it open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried about you,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he said, his voice clogging up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t do that again!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he hissed, his entire body clenched up. He had an arm raised to strike, to hit Ringo out of frustration, but it stayed frozen in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George began to shake, gasping for air. He collapsed to the floor, hands flying to cover his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were gone,” he choked out. “I thought you had left us. I thought you—” His breathing had turned to harsh sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Using all the force he could muster, Ringo lunged forward and embraced George in the strongest hug he could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna leave you,” Ringo said. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed like that, in each other’s embrace for a long while, until George had finally calmed down. He pulled away, muttered, “I’m sorry,” and sunk down next to Ringo. Paul moved in closer, and Ringo stretched out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in the cavern, he was safe, yet his mind was still so shaken. There had to be some way for him to relax—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shrieked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo—” he moaned, “You- </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re—!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He pointed at Ringo’s lower half. Then, he began to count the tentacles he saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in the middle of them all, a stub of a limb, scarred and shredded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo should have been frightened or disturbed, but he felt indifferent. He was missing a tentacle, but he had seven others. It didn’t hurt at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stop screaming?” Ringo asked, his ears starting to hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” George moaned, “How do you not—” He looked like he was about to throw up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, god—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul quickly ushered George outside, leaving Ringo alone in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George, are you—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need to find John.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, wait!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo zoned out. He couldn’t think or feel anything aside from his exhaustion. Why did every single fish he encountered have to try to kill him? Why was everything so awful? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he ever agree to get on that damn submarine in the first place?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and shook his head. He needed sleep. He let his eyes close for a second…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...and woke up several hours later. George was behind him, gently weaving flowers together. Paul was asleep, unconscious, holding Ringo protectively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” George whispered. “You feeling better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ringo said. The stump where his missing tentacle was wrapped up. He still felt tired, but not as dazed and traumatized as before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made you something,” George said, gently putting a lei around Ringo’s neck, and a crown atop his head. Unlike George’s and Paul’s, it was woven with more than the orange flowers. It had small seafoam and lavender blooms in a pattern, making the entire lei much fuller and colorful than the others. The crown had the extra flowers, as well as small, glistening, white shells poking out, like a tiara. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a little ashamed of how much better George’s craftsmanship was compared to his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Geo,” he said. “These are gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you like them. I think that after what happened today, you deserved something extra-special.” George was smiling, but his brow was heavy and downturned. It was hard to be cheerful when your friend lost a limb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, some tapping came from the entryway to the cave. Ringo felt a spike of anxiety. After his encounter in the deep, any and every foreign sound scared him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” John’s voice called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George and Ringo looked at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay with it,” Ringo whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you can come,” George called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slid open and John came in, slowly, hesitantly. It was surreal to see him so subdued. Ringo had grown to expect either loud aggression or mania out of the shark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing those fins and his teeth made painful images of the stranger that had attacked him. It was an automatic reaction, one that Ringo didn’t need.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was not an abyss-dweller. He had saved Ringo’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Ringo focused on John’s neck. There were scratches and bruises, all underneath a bright orange lei. John had tied the necklace where it had broken, and although it wasn’t the cleanest repair-job, it was the sentiment that counted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...” John began, unsure of what to say. “I want to apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look at me like that, Geo,” John said. “Look, I’m fuckin’ sorry, alright?” He took a deep breath. “I was pissed that you wanted to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped, and it was apparent that John was not familiar with apologizing. He was staring at the ground, too embarrassed to gauge Ringo and George’s reactions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you two. Say somethin’,” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, what do you want us to say?” Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” John hissed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John,” George said, voice calm. “What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, John stayed silent, almost as if he was ashamed of what he wanted to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want...” he huffed. “Fuck. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is so stupid...</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he muttered to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he pouted. Pouted! Ringo couldn’t believe it. “...what you said yesterday, you… made a good point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll move with us?” George asked, suddenly grinning and excited, his tail moving back and forth, wagging like a puppy’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say that! I just— I need to think about it some more,” John mumbled, and Ringo could swear his cheeks flushed red. At his answer, George didn’t deflate at all, instead silently cheering to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This morning, Ringo was lamenting how George stayed with John out of some lost obligation. Seeing them now, how flustered John was, or how George hummed with childish glee, all with their leis worn proudly on their necks…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was amazing, Ringo thought. They were all some kind of weird family, together whether they liked it or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… can I sleep here tonight?” John asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” George said, already moving over and sliding in right next to Ringo. John sealed up the doorway and let himself fall down next to George, sandwiching him and Ringo with Paul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You an’ Paul,” John yawned, “are a disaster couple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be,” John replied. “Just means that you need us to keep an eye on yeh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to sleep,” George hummed, already nestled in Ringo’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Family, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. These guys were his new family, he realized. They’re all they got. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was tired of musing and reflecting. All he knew was that as far as families went, this one wasn’t the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he fell asleep, safe in their arms.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Adrift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ringo woke up to a harsh pain in his side.</p><p>Trapped in the dark cavern with no way to see, he feared something was attacking him. He raised his tentacles to protect himself—</p><p>—And realized the pain came from George wedged into his side. The blue rings in his skin disappeared, and Ringo was left in the dark with his thoughts again. </p><p>Flashes of the shark that attacked him yesterday came up, trying to rip Ringo apart. He tried to close his eyes to block it out, but the dark underside of his eyelids reminded him of the abyss. It didn't help that his tentacle stump was aching.</p><p>Ringo would have loved to fall back asleep, but couldn't. His heart pounded in his chest, thumping away as if there was a threat in the silent cavern. Even though he was sandwiched between George, John, and Paul, he felt none of their body warmth. </p><p>Then, John rolled over and Ringo saw that he was awake.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Ringo said. "Did I wake you up?"</p><p>John said nothing and pulled himself up into a sitting position.</p><p>"Not really," he murmured. "Jus' couldn't sleep." He looked over at Ringo. "...you were thinkin' about him too, weren't you?"</p><p>"Yeah," Ringo admitted.</p><p>"Y’know, when I told yeh to piss off, I didn't think you'd actually go and leave."</p><p>"I didn’t mean to," Ringo said.</p><p>John hummed. "I’ve never seen George so miserable before. He was in hysterics, cryin' to me 'bout how you left. I went to look for yeh to calm him down."</p><p>The thought of George losing his composure over Ringo leaving made his stomach feel like it was full of rocks. "I… didn't know he cared so much," Ringo said.</p><p>"He cares too much," John said. "Poor guy."</p><p>The cavern was silent.</p><p>"...why's that a bad thing?" Ringo asked.</p><p>John looked at him. " 'Cause if you die, then you're gonna break his heart."</p><p>"I'm not suicidal," Ringo scoffed.</p><p>"Considering what happened yesterday, I doubt it. Listen," John said, putting a hand on Ringo's shoulder. At the contact, Ringo felt a jolt of panic. "You can be friends with George and do whatever you want, but if yeh make ‘im cry, I'll kill yeh."</p><p>Ringo gulped, shakily nodding.</p><p>"Alright, good. We're on the same page," John said, withdrawing his hand. "Are yeh scared of me?"</p><p>Ringo wanted to ask where that question came from before he noticed his rings were showing. He sighed.</p><p>"I'm more scared of another shark right now," he said. "John, you don't have to answer, but that guy…" Ringo took a deep breath. "Is he your father?"</p><p>At his words, John tensed up, his gaze darkening. </p><p>After too long, he spoke. "Yes."</p><p>Ringo's suspicions were proved correct, but he didn't like the fact that they were.</p><p>"Do I remind yeh of him?" John asked, voice uncharacteristically weak.</p><p>"I…" Ringo trailed. What do you say in a situation like this? What would John think? What does he want to hear?</p><p>"Just be honest. I won't get mad."</p><p>"...a little," Ringo quietly confessed.</p><p>John folded his arms over, holding himself. He held that position for several moments, as still as a statue. Then, he let out a chuckle, one that was pathetic and self-deprecating.</p><p>"Like father, like son," he let out, laughing despite the grimace his face pulled into. He rose, then pushed the door out of the way, it being early morning. "...hey Rings? Don't go anywhere today, alright?"</p><p>Ringo nodded, and John was gone.</p><p>Seeing George distraught yesterday had caused John to have a brutal realization that he cared about George. Seeing such an old companion full of anxiety made him remember he had the ability to emphasize.</p><p>And it was a painful reminder.</p><p>To think that under all the hate and flippant disregard that John had a heart was unreal. It was liberating, in a sense. As easy as it would have been to leave John and set out South, he couldn’t. </p><p>Ringo wanted to get up and follow after him, but with George and Paul holding him so closely, he couldn’t. Nothing to be but to wait for them to get up.</p><p>He ended up spending his time reading a book, a merfolk tale. The only two hobbies Ringo had were working in the garden and reading. There were only a few books within his reach, mostly strewn around Paul. He didn’t want to read a human book that he had slogged through while in school; he wanted something new, fresh.</p><p>He picked up a book that was not bound with leather, but instead a granular, pulpy material, one that was a soft blue with specks of gold. The cover depicted a muscular mermaid, decked in extravagant armor, with three other women behind her, all with weapons. Behind them was a shining figure. It read: Vitiani, the Grand Patron. </p><p><em> Well, </em> Ringo thought. <em> This’ll be an interesting read. </em></p><p>The story was, unsurprisingly, about Vitiani, a powerful mermaid warrior. She and her three wives were all patrons, or servants to the Gods, or in this case, Atornox, lord of logic and reason. The entirety of the book read like a Saturday morning cartoon. Some bad guys or monsters would show up, and Vitiani would fight them in the name of “The Great Almighty lord of logos, Atornox.” Yes, it was really written like that every time they mentioned it. Ringo had no idea what this book was. It read like a children’s tale, but also presented itself in a way like it was fact. This story might have been a kind of history book, one written in a way to keep the reader’s attention.</p><p>Most likely, it was religious propaganda. Vitiani always used her mind, not her immense strength to save the day, proving brains were better than brawn… Even if the cover made her look like she was built like a freight train.</p><p>Ringo had made it about one-third through the book before George stirred. </p><p>He let out a large yawn, then hummed: “Good morning.”</p><p>“Morning, Geo,” Ringo said.</p><p>“Were you waitin’ for me to wake up?” George asked. “You could’ve nudged me or somethin’.”</p><p>“Nah, not like I needed to go anywhere,” Ringo said.</p><p>George seemed placated by his answer and cuddled into Ringo more. “Hey, out of the four, who’s your favorite?”</p><p>“Uh, what?”</p><p>“Y’know,” George said, “from <em> Vitiani. </em>”</p><p>“Oh, erm...” Ringo found the book to be rather basic and meaningless and hadn’t bothered to remember the names of the four main characters aside from the title character. “Who’s your favorite?”</p><p>“I like Manisoo,” George said.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, me too,” Ringo said, having no idea who Manisoo was. If he had to guess, she must have been the long, serpentine fish with the curved swords on the cover. </p><p>George was pleased that they had similar tastes. “Anyway, you should keep readin’. I’ll get some food for you.”</p><p>“Hang on,” Paul grumbled, waking up. “Let me- let me come with you.”</p><p>“No, you’re sick,” George said.</p><p>“I’m not sick...” Paul said.</p><p>“Even if you weren’t, you should keep Ringo company,” George said, and that was that. Paul deflated, and shifted on the seaweed bed. At his compliance, George left the cavern, leaving Paul and Ringo in silence.</p><p>“...Ringo,” Paul began. “Are you… okay?”</p><p>“Well, my chest still hurts, but my legs— er, <em> tentacles </em>are fine. Kind of itchy.”</p><p>Paul frowned. “I meant, <em> mentally, </em>are you okay?”</p><p>Ringo hesitated, long enough for Paul to know that <em> No, </em>he wasn’t.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he said. “Yesterday, I was feeling weird, but I’m okay now.”</p><p>“Ringo...”</p><p>“I mean it! I’m here, and I’m safe with you guys. Everything’s fine,” he said. “Paul, trust me.”</p><p>Paul’s hands moved so that they were touching the golden ring he wore. He let out a sigh. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re not okay.”</p><p>Ringo tensed.</p><p>"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Paul said. "I don't want to push you."</p><p>"Thanks," Ringo said, grateful for Paul's ability to step down. Maybe it came from being older and wiser, but Ringo was glad he didn't press for details.</p><p>Besides, Ringo could hardly explain his feelings to Paul when he barely understood them himself.</p><p>He felt stifled, and not in a way that Paul or George could easily remedy. What he wanted was some way to forget, to not feel so awful.</p><p>He flexed his tentacles and grimaced. George had wrapped his up too tightly; the stump ached and itched. He leaned forward to undo the makeshift bandages as the stinging sensation continued. It felt like pins and needles, oddly a worse pain than when it was torn off. He ripped the bindings off and stared at what lay underneath.</p><p>"Oh," he mumbled. Paul's jaw was hanging open.</p><p>He had forgotten octopuses could regrow missing limbs. Underneath the seaweed was a tentacle, albeit a very short and stubby one, pale and weak.</p><p>"That's..." Paul trailed.</p><p>"Amazing," Ringo finished. He flexed his tentacles and watched the stubby one curl up. </p><p>"I'm back!" George suddenly announced, carrying a small bag with him. "I brought some snacks." He opened his cloth bag and started pulling out several items. He put shellfish and crustaceans next to Ringo, and a new kind of aquatic plant next to Paul. Then, he noticed the discarded bandages, looked upwards, and saw the stumpy tentacle.</p><p>"It's regrowing," George muttered with awe. He reached out and poked it experimentally.</p><p>"Ah, it's sensitive," Ringo complained, his tentacles recoiling.</p><p>"Sorry," George mumbled. "It's just… It's really cute," he hummed. "It's like a little baby."</p><p>"Er, thanks..." Ringo said, watching as George began to crack open the shells of the crabs, pulling them out.</p><p>"Open your mouth," he ordered and Ringo did as he was told. George put the naked crab into his mouth.</p><p>All of Ringo's tentacles began to coil and wind up, and he was struck by just how intimate George was being. He was hand-feeding Ringo! </p><p>
  <em> This is weird. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> This is so fucking weird! </em>
</p><p>But he didn't dare move. George looked happy, softly smiling as he kept shelling the crabs. The meat was tasty, but Ringo felt guilty to admit it under Paul's scrutiny. </p><p>He decided he couldn't take it anymore.</p><p>"George, you don't have to feed me," he said. His words made George freeze as if nothing about what had transpired struck him as off.</p><p>"Sorry, sorry," George quickly muttered. "I'll stop."</p><p>When George's hand receded, Ringo felt worse. Before, his stomach felt tingly, but now it felt sick. George was still shelling the crabs and handing them off, but the sudden removal of the intimacy felt wrong. They ate in silence, Paul reaching over and taking a tiny bite out of the plants George got. The food was nice, not as good as what they looted or bought, but decent.</p><p>"Paul, do you want one?" Ringo asked, holding out a shrimp.</p><p>"No thanks," Paul replied.</p><p>They continued to eat, the cavern filled with nothing but the soft sound of chewing.</p><p>"So," Ringo said, breaking the silence. "What do you want to talk about?"</p><p>George and Paul stared at him, saying nothing.</p><p>"Alright then," Ringo hummed. "I'm gonna go out for a walk." </p><p>He got up and left before the other two could stop him, deftly wriggling out of the cavern. He just felt weird. Because of his injuries, everyone was looking at him like he was glass. He didn't like being treated differently. It made him feel like he was being lied to.</p><p>The rocky hills were still as drab as ever, his garden being the only pop of color. That, and the massive green shark in the distance.</p><p>Ringo looked upwards to see John, arms folded, watching him.</p><p>"Oh, for fuck’s sake," Ringo grumbled. "Keeping guard?" he shouted upwards at John.</p><p>John said something back, but he was far enough that none of it was intelligible.</p><p>"Come down here!" Ringo yelled, a request that made John swim over, arms still glued to his chest.</p><p>"Well, I gotta keep watch, don't I?" John said. "Can't trust yeh on your own."</p><p>"Well, if we lived down South, there wouldn't be anything to worry about." At his words, John frowned but didn't argue. It wouldn't be the best to push him, Ringo decided and changed the topic. "There's nothing to do out here," he hummed.</p><p>"There's plenty to do," John said. We can fish, swim," then, in a darker voice, "hunt."</p><p>"What's the difference between hunting and fishing?"</p><p>"Well, one's for getting fish, the other is for humans."</p><p>Ringo's blood froze. </p><p>"You're still staying here out of the kindness of me heart, you see. You owe me for givin' yeh food and shelter, not to mention protectin' yeh from the abyss people."</p><p>"What are you getting at?"</p><p>"Tomorrow, we'll go through the gate and hunt."</p><p>There was no logical reason for John to invite him along. Ringo was no predator, too much of a pacifist to dare attack humans. There was a second force at play.</p><p>"You just want me along so you can keep an eye on me," Ringo accused.</p><p>"Maybe," John said, unfettered by the response.</p><p>"Well no. I'm no killer, and on top of that, I'm injured."</p><p>"It's already growing back," John huffed. "I just don't want a repeat of what happened yesterday."</p><p>"I'm not dumb enough to go back there," Ringo said. "But if you want to watch me, you'll have to stay here."</p><p>"Fine, I will," John huffed, making Ringo blink in disbelief. He acquiesced so easily, barely any semblance of a fight. What happened to the abrasive shark he knew?</p><p>Ringo wanted to spend some time cleaning and neatening the garden, but with John's presence, he didn’t feel comfortable enough to do so. He turned to head inside, and John went in the opposite direction, up the cliffs for a better vantage point. Something was weighing heavily on his mind, but if John didn’t want to share, then Ringo didn’t care.</p><p>He thought about taking a quick stroll around for some alone time, but John made that impossible, so he retreated into the cavern.</p><p>George was laying down next to Paul, softly laughing, fingertips gently caressing the ends of Paul’s hair. It made Ringo’s insides squirm.</p><p>“Hey,” George greeted, before returning his attention to Paul. When did those two grow so close? Being near them made his skin crawl. He needed to lay down.</p><p>“Why’re you sitting down all the way over there?” Paul asked. “C’mere.”</p><p>“No thanks, I just want to take a nap,” Ringo said. He felt sick and as nice as Paul’s offer was, he didn’t want to take his attention away from George. He liked Paul, and he liked George, so why was seeing them together so painful? Why did that sight make him so upset?</p><p>“...so, anyway,” George said now that Ringo was curled up in the corner, “you’ll love it. I’ve never been there but...”</p><p>Ringo wanted nothing more than to jump between them, forcing them to pay attention to him. It was selfish, it was odd, but that’s what he desired. He wasn’t going to do it, though. He had enough grace not to.</p><p>“...doesn’t it cost money to go there? I’d imagine so...”</p><p>“...we can make a deal with Alex next time he comes round...”</p><p>He felt constricted and backward seeing them together, but not when they were apart. And he felt a giddy joy when it was them both sandwiching him. Subconsciously, he reached out to stroke the magnificent crown and lei George had made. These two made him feel so warm and safe and loved…</p><p>
  <em> Oh my god. </em>
</p><p>These feelings, wanting to spend time with them, feeling jealous when they spent time together… Ringo was in <em> love. </em></p><p>He turned over to stare at George and Paul. He hadn’t paid attention to their conversation, but it seemed to be about a trip, going somewhere for a short spell. </p><p>He didn’t like seeing them talking with each other because he wanted it to be him instead. But the thing was, who was he in love with? His first instinct was to say Paul, for the marlin was the closest to him, but George was so nice to talk to. He could take a sour mood and turn it around fast.</p><p><em> No! </em>This is ridiculous, Ringo wasn’t in love. He was only infatuated because there was no one else around. It was desperation, justified considering he only knew five other mermen. One tried to blackmail him, one tried to kill him. Compared to them, Paul and George were Gods.</p><p>“Uh, what are you two talking about?” he asked.</p><p>“Moondance,” George said. “It’s this big city. I was gonna take Pattie there years ago, but now I thinkin’ of bringin’ you two instead.”</p><p>“It’s like New York,” Paul explained to Ringo, “but underwater.”</p><p>“What’s New York?” George asked.</p><p>“It’s like Moondance, but on land,” Paul said. George glared at him. Ringo had to bite his tongue to stop him from blurting out he's never been to the states.</p><p>"That sounds fun," Ringo said. </p><p>"I've wanted to go for a while, but I don't want to do it alone, and John would never agree."</p><p>"Me and Ringo, we would love to go with you," Paul said and Ringo smiled at his automatic inclusion. </p><p>To be fair, it was hard not to be infatuated with Paul. He was strong, handsome, mature, but also had a kind spirit. He was a hard-worker but sometimes secretive, which was only fair considering he was mourning.</p><p>"So when will we be leaving?" Ringo asked.</p><p>"Hopefully next year," George said, making Ringo cringe.</p><p>"That long?"</p><p>"Well, Alex only comes 'round once every year and he's the only person who buys human goods," George said. "So if we want money to go, we have to wait."</p><p>"That's gonna take forever," Ringo moaned.</p><p>"A year isn't that long," George said.</p><p>"It's three hundred and sixty-five days!" Ringo exclaimed.</p><p>"No it's not," George said. "A year is a hundred and twelve days."</p><p>If Ringo hadn't spent two weeks growing accustomed to living as a merman, he would have had a stroke.</p><p>"<em> What?! </em>"</p><p>"Yeah," George said. "A hundred and twelve days, twenty-eight days a season, four seasons."</p><p>"I'm— okay, sure, fine, alright," Ringo said. He wasn't on Earth anymore, and not even on the same planet. Whatever.</p><p>"How long is a week?" Paul asked.</p><p>"Seven days. You didn't know this?"</p><p>"I don't see any calendar makers out here!" Ringo exclaimed. Entire seasons were the length of a month. The heavens themselves were alien now. He had always felt like days had flown by too quickly as well; were there fewer hours in a day?</p><p>"How old are you guys?" George asked.</p><p>"...I'm twenty-four," Ringo said, and George's eyes widened.</p><p>"No way in hell," George laughed.</p><p>"Well, how old are you, then?"</p><p>"Ninety-three," George said.</p><p>"Ninety… three," Ringo echoed. He was going to cry.</p><p>"<em> What?! </em>"</p><p>"The years are different lengths," Paul said in a calm voice, even if he looked like he was sweating out his brain. "They're about three times shorter, right? So George is..." Paul paused to count on his fingers. "He's thirty-one in human years."</p><p>"He can't be thirty-one!" Ringo shouted. "Because then he'd be seven years older than me!"</p><p>"That means he'd be a year under me," Paul muttered. That meant Paul was thirty-two, information that Ringo filed away.</p><p>It sounded so off, George's age, that Paul began to write an equation down. He must not have been the studious type because Ringo watched him count on his fingers, then write "93" and "112" on top of each other for long multiplication.</p><p>And then stared at it, unsure how to continue.</p><p>
  <em> Simple arithmetic too much for you, huh Paul? </em>
</p><p>"Do you have a calculator?" Paul asked.</p><p>George blinked.</p><p>"What's a calculator?"</p><p>"Oh my <em> God, </em>" Ringo muttered.</p><p>"Well, you're the student, you solve it!" Paul exclaimed.</p><p>"For <em> biology, </em>Paul. Do I look like a guy who would willingly do math?"</p><p>"What do they look like, then?" Paul asked.</p><p>"I don’t know! The opposite of me," Ringo said. He looked at the simple equation on the floor. "We're so hopeless."</p><p>"Seconded," Paul said. He swiped his tail across the ground, destroying the numbers he had written.</p><p>"You two..." George muttered. "You're really not from here at all. You're from beyond the gate."</p><p>The jovial spirit of the room dissipated. Ringo cast a glance at Paul, wondering what information to share. They shared a glance and a nod.</p><p>"We are," Paul said.</p><p>"I knew you were hidin' something from me, but I don’t blame you." George let out a soft chuckle. "I always thought it was a bit ridiculous."</p><p>"What- what is?" Ringo asked, having found his voice.</p><p>"This idea that every human is a killer. I knew merfolk and humans could co-exist," George said.</p><p>Paul let out a soft exhale through his nose, and Ringo felt his tentacles relax. George was dangerously close to learning the truth but assumed they lived with humans, not that they were humans themselves.</p><p>Then again, who could guess something as ridiculous as that?</p><p>"I promise I won't tell John," George said. "As long as you two don't tell him what I said."</p><p>"We won't. Promise." Ringo held a hand up and put the other over his heart like he was taking an oath of office.</p><p>George smiled. "Can you tell me what the humans are really like? Not just the mean ones in the boats?"</p><p>"They're wonderful."</p><p>"They're awful."</p><p>Paul and Ringo spoke simultaneously, their answers in opposition. </p><p>"I mean..." Ringo didn’t want to give a biased answer. "They're smart. Wizards with technology and electricity. They have machines that can make enough food to feed entire countries. They've gone up to the stars," Ringo said.</p><p>"The stars?"</p><p>"Yeah, spaceships and rockets that are miles away from the planet," Ringo said. "There are people who walked on the moon."</p><p>"The moon..." George said. "That's… <em> wow. </em>"</p><p>"It is, isn't it? And there's books and newspapers and television," he went on.</p><p>"They also made guns," Paul said. "And bombs. They made plenty of weapons to kill other humans. They're not a kind species," Paul said. "Don't be fooled by their grandeur into thinking they're good. All the technology in the world can't bring the dead back to life."</p><p>Ringo wanted to say something, to argue against it, but Paul was right. Two weeks ago, he was in a submarine planning to kidnap and abduct a mermaid, not even noticing the crime he was about to commit.</p><p>Maybe Richard Starkey wasn't a good human, but he knew plenty of people who were. </p><p>"There's good people, and bad people," Ringo said.</p><p>"I think all the humans who come here in their submarines are bad humans," Paul said. "They'll want to kill you."</p><p>"I know," George muttered. "I've lost track of the time that passed, but I—" He stopped. "We'll never forget what the humans did to us. We have to kill them before they kill us," he said, chanting the same mantra John did when they first met. He looked hollow, empty.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he whispered, raising a hand to his forehead. "I need- I need some fresh air." George left, with a slight tremble to his movements.</p><p>"Don't follow him," Paul said as soon as he was gone, grabbing Ringo by the arm. "Let him be."</p><p>"I just… <em> fuck, </em>Paul."</p><p>"I know, but it's best he doesn't trust humans, lest he ends up dead like <em> Julia. </em>"</p><p>Paul was right; he usually was. But Ringo wanted him to be wrong. All he could think about was what life would have been like if he had met George as a human, living a regular life free from this bizarre life-or-death world he was in.</p><p>Later that day, George would return with John, acting as if nothing was wrong. And they'd go back to sleep as if they were all lovers, their warm embraces clashing with their frigid hearts.</p><p>And in the middle of it all was Ringo, feeling the cusp of a terrible change about to take place.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Desire of the Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyo, I want to apologize for the break in updates. I wrote a one-shot and got sidelined by that. I have no plans to give up on this fic or anything like that.</p><p>I will also mention that one human year is approximately four mermaid years (3.91 to be exact) in case you were curious.</p><p>With that, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ringo never realized how much he craved affection until he noticed that no one was holding him tonight. He usually cozied up with George and Paul, but this time, he laid on the fringes, closer to John than anyone else. George and Paul huddled together with no space between them, and the hot sting of jealousy burned Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivered, so far from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, his eight tentacles were splayed all over. One clutched John's arm, another was wrapped around George's waist. Even his stumpy one was stretching for Paul's hand, even if it was far too short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo decided to push things. He crawled up and over to wedge himself right between George and Paul. They were so close that Ringo couldn't quite squeeze in, not without stirring them, and resigned himself to laying on top of the pair. The weightlessness of the water was useful in this regard. It wasn't exactly what he had desired, but the warmth radiating off of their bodies helped Ringo fall back asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when he woke up crushed, he was confused. George and Paul were beneath him, so that meant—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gazing up, Ringo saw John unconscious and heavy as a boulder on top of him. Because Ringo was an octopus, his tentacles lacked bones. Even with the (what he could assume) gazillion pound shark on him, it didn't hurt his lower half. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His rib cage, however, told a different story. He could barely breathe with all the weight and pressure on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get off me!" he complained, pushing against the immovable beast that was John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But John was dead to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fat bastard," Ringo grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That caught John's attention. "...don't call me fat," he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then get off me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," John huffed, sliding off the merman pyramid. "I don't see why you're allowed to climb on them and not me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's because I don't weigh a fuckton—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such language,” John chided, clicking his tongue in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk-tsk </span>
  </em>
  <span>manner. “Whatever, doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For someone who just said </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>John seemed a lot more than disinterested. His gaze was trained on Ringo, scanning his face for every minute expression, every drop of emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you looking at?” Ringo snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” John replied. “I’m gonna get some breakfast. You’re welcome to join if you want.” He mumbled that last bit in a voice so quiet that Ringo was certain he was embarrassed about it. It was hard figuring out what John was looking for, for his actions and words always contradicted themselves. Around him was an air of aloofness, of indifference, but he was always so desperate to be close to Ringo, to act as a warden to him. Being the strongest out of the four of them, John had no reason to be wary of Ringo, so it wasn’t because he was mistrustful. No, John’s behavior came from a singular base desire: to get close. John craved friendship but was too crude and blunt when it came to subtler social niceties.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was cute in a way, but Ringo was tired and doubted he could go hunting with a shark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m too much of a shrimp to be hunting on your level,” Ringo said. Oddly, John just cocked his head at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I thought you were an octopus?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo snorted. “I mean shrimp as in little, y’know, ‘cause shrimp are tiny and I’m tiny—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, it’ll be fun,” John cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry John,” Ringo said. “Why don’t you pick something less violent for us to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘Cause that shit’s boring,” John huffed. “And we could always use more food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about reading? You were into that for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waste of time,” John hissed. “George’s already way ahead of me, and I don’t see the need for us both to be literate.” He crossed his arms and let a sharp exhale out of his nose as if his logic was sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s so— George won’t be around you forever, you know!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes he will,” John said. “He always has been, always will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo shook his head. John was an ignorant fool. “Do you think he likes you? Do you actually believe he’s happy here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You don’t know him at all!” Ringo stated, struggling to keep his voice calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s me best mate, you cunt,” John growled. “I’ve known him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then do you know about how he regrets leaving Pattie and all his other friends for you? Or how he wants to leave this hellhole to live a normal life? Or how he’d like to take a trip, or, or stop slaughtering humans? Do you know how afraid he actually is of you? How he’s always sacrificing what he wants so you can be happy?” His voice was starting to get shrill. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re looking at me like everything I’m saying is crazy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John bared his fangs. “Don’t yell at me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Then stop treating George like he’s a piece of garbage on the street!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every single one of his rings was burning a brilliant blue, the light bouncing off of John’s still body. Each tentacle was poised to strike, like seven vipers waiting in the grass. Ringo wasn't afraid; he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious. </span>
  </em>
  <span>George deserved better than John, and he needed the shark to know it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s eyes widened, and as Ringo slowly twisted around, he saw George’s steely eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t yell at John like that,” he stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— He </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserves it! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He treats you like shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind,” George calmly replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo felt outraged. Why was George still defending John?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...is it all true?” John hesitantly asked, the question creeping out of his mouth like a spider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When George didn’t immediately reply, John’s expression soured, the corners of his lips pulled into a grimace. He knew all he needed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, well then,” John spat, fists clenched. “So you’re telling me that the past eleven years were a fuckin’ lie then? Everything you ever told me was just bullshite?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John— no—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That the only fuckin’ reason you’re still here is out of </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>That’s fuckin’ great then! It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fan-fuckin-tastic!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” George cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John shouted back, but Ringo couldn't hear a single word of it. John snarled and then slammed his fists like sledgehammers into the cavern walls. Cracks erupted from the spot, and before Ringo could react, Paul had swooped in and shielded Ringo with his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dust kicked up, and when it settled, half the cavern had collapsed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More concerning was the fact that George quickly retreated, darting out of sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one dared twitch, aside from the need to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why'd you yell at him?" Paul asked after their heart rates had calmed, causing Ringo's to spike again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?! He's an asshole, Paul! Someone needed to tell him—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't need to start a fight!" Paul gritted out. "Things were fine as they were."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You thought they were fine? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before, Ringo had admired Paul's calm demeanor, his heart of gold stopping him from hurting others. But now, he was angry at his friend. The atmosphere around them was ungodly tense; there was no way in hell they could have lived happily here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted a better life, for him, George, and Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't seriously tell me you'd be happy here, in this wasteland with John." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul sighed. "I know," he said, shaking his head. "I know. But you didn't have to blow up at him. It's not like you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you'd know everything about—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo halted, his breathing erratic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Shit, I'm so sorry." He tried to hold himself back, to not lose his composure, to be the cornerstone of positivity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just— Everything's so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The worms, then the shark, and John's a </span>
  <em>
    <span>god damn murderer, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost fucking died! </span>
  </em>
  <span>This isn't normal! This isn't normal! This— This—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo struggled to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to go home,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he choked out. "Paul, is that, is that so wrong?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He called out, trembling, but Paul gaped back. He had no clue how to comfort Ringo when he himself was suffering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it dawned on Ringo that Paul wouldn't be of any help, his mind shifted. He desired George above everyone else at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With another second passing where Paul remained frozen, Ringo dashed out of the cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gardens was where George ran off to. That was a fact; he had told Ringo himself. He didn't bother checking his surroundings, oblivious to how John watched him from the shadows. All he needed was to locate George to both reconcile with him but also to talk to a rational person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul repressed his feelings, John let them flow out too much. But George, he clicked with him, their friendship strong for how little they had been together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trek to the gardens took an hour, but that was at a leisurely stroll. Should John or Paul want to, they could make it there in a matter of minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Ringo was not some big, muscular shark. He was tiny, and whenever he suspended himself in the water, a terrible fear took hold of him. It's like not knowing how to swim and suddenly thrust into the deep end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was annoying, and Ringo was positive it was his octopus brain. Animal instincts screamed at him to stay away from open water and hide in crevices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...Honestly, worming his way into a small crack in the rocks and just staying still in there sounded a lot more appealing than Ringo was willing to admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, he pressed on. He tried to thrust himself through open water but it felt too wrong. Instead, he crawled, deftly navigating the craggy terrain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar mass of green rose in the distance, and Ringo marched onward, accelerating through the dead coral reefs. Water and tiny krill rushed past him as he bounded over the landscape. He fell into a rhythm of a walking-skipping that made travel smooth and effortless. By the time he reached the edge of the heavy foliage of the garden, he paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, he hated George's fins. The delicate green appendages were exotic as they were beautiful, but they blended in perfectly with the forest. Every leaf resembled George, and the gardens were filled with thousands of plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo's voice died in his throat. Amidst all the towering plants, there was no sound, just the gentle waving of the seaweed. Screaming out George's name would shatter the tranquility here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He crept forward, trying to remember every detail in George's face and body. His voluminous hair that flowed in the water, the armor-like plating on his skin contrasting with his thin, waifish figure. He slender fingers, the bright orange-yellows of his skin reminiscent of the rising sun. Ringo could prattle on for hours about his cheekbones, or the intense glare of his eyes. Ringo had remembered every part of George's face that he found to be attractive and interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a cold sweat, he realized that he found every part of George to be memorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his brain echoed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You're in love with George!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo physically held his arms as not to slap himself. Was he really so desperate for George? He had no one else: that's why he was clinging so heavily to Paul and George. There was no other reason for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(But Ringo didn't feel any reassurance from this declaration.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept circling the gardens, but George remained elusive. There was a chance he wasn't here at all. Dread bubbled up when it hit him: George may have run away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George?" Ringo called out into the green mass around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don't tell me he's gone for good. Please, I can't live here with Paul and John— I'll go insane!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo called again: "If you're out there, please just—" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost finished his phrase, but then he caught sight of two eyes, gazing at him. It was George, clutching one of his arms, looking very hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey there," Ringo said, "are you alright?" He deliberately chose not to apologize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...You know, I came here to be alone," George said, causing Ringo to grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geo, please—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why are you here?" George snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why? Because— because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I care about you!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You… do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I do! You're so kind and friendly and excitable, you make me smile so much, Geo." </span>
  <em>
    <span>And I need someone who can bring joy to me in this wasteland, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he admitted mentally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his words, George let go of his arm where his nails were digging in and stopped frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Thanks, Rings."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to make you happy, like you do to me," Ringo continued. " 'Cause I think you deserve it. You've been nothing but </span>
  <em>
    <span>loving </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>caring </span>
  </em>
  <span>since I came here. I really—" he had to pause for a moment, his voice getting choked up "—really appreciate everything you've done for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I didn't do much at all," George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But it's all I need."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George squinted, misty-eyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I missed having someone to talk to," George said. "It's been so long, I forgot that it's not normal to go entire days without speaking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Christ, did he really do that to you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded. "He wasn't always like that, but he changed. I… I may have loved him in the past, but not anymore." He closed his eyes. "I wanted to help him..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you can't give your help to someone who doesn't want it," Ringo finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," George said. "Ringo…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you mean what you said? About how you enjoyed being with me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Every word of it. And let me just say— If John or Paul don't see how funny and charming you are then they're blind, I tell you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're putting me on!" George playfully shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not," Ringo said, moving to hold George's hands. "You’re one of the most lovely people I've had the honor of calling my friend." Those words were true, for both Ringo as well as Richard Starkey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, they just stared at each other, eyes locked. His skin was already pink, but Ringo was certain it went a few shades darker. His soul was brimming with affection for George, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to protect the man in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's something I need to tell you… it's about something very bad that I did. John would kill me if he found out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded, ears open. But to his surprise, George just shook his head and tilted it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I can't, not with you looking at me like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would it be better if I closed my eyes, then?" Ringo asked, joking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, that would help," George responded, and Ringo complied, ready to hear the words George was about to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited, silence filling his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, he felt it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A kiss.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George tenderly pressed his lips against Ringo's, and his eyes popped open in shock. Ringo wasn’t hallucinating; George was inches from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've fallen in love with a human," he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a torrent of thoughts in Ringo's mind. Was this love? George loved him? They kissed? He was gay? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God, they kissed?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was one thought far stronger than the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked it. And he craved more of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without prompting, Ringo lunged forward and kissed George fiercely, lips interlocked. George was shocked but quickly melted into it, his hands migrating to Ringo's lower back. The way his long nails stroked the lower curve of his spine, the way their bodies pressed together— it felt so,</span>
  <em>
    <span> so right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They broke the kiss, just to breathe and bask in each other's presence. Ringo's tentacles wrapped themselves around George, and the sea dragon proceeded to nuzzle Ringo's cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drifted in the calm waters together. Even so, Ringo's heart would not stop its ecstatic beating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they got back to the wastes, they were holding each other's hands, softly giggling. But despite their euphoria, George had grown distant as they got closer home. He was afraid of John's reaction, and Ringo was afraid of Paul's. An odd sense of guilt wormed its way inside Ringo. The thought of being with George felt risqué, dirty. It was like he was cheating on Paul, which made no sense at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who was he to argue with his feelings? His premonition about love was right, even if he had mistaken Paul to be the object of his affection. Maybe a part of him still liked Paul as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe… the thought of being with both Paul and George warmed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cavern itself was empty when they peeked in, and soon Ringo planted himself dead-center in the bed. Without prompting, George came in and held him from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The action caused Ringo to flush, shivers jolting up his spine. George was so overly affectionate, so physical with him… most likely to make up for John's hostility in the past three years. Ringo didn't mind the contact, instead wanting to cuddle with George even more to make up for the deficit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They passed the rest of the day in the cavern, softly speaking about how lovely it all was. At one point, George had pulled up snacks, and Ringo snapped his head forward to eat them out of George's hand. George laughed and then ended up feeding each other. It was lovey-dovey and cheesy but every little action he did with George put Ringo on Cloud Nine— No, higher than that. Cloud Ten? Eleven? He didn't know but he didn't care. He felt… happy. So much happier than this morning, more than he had ever been since transforming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And George too looked blissed out, the hard features of his face so relaxed and calm. He resembled a serene sculpture, ethereal and glowing in the reflective light of the cavern. His posture had grown looser and looser until he was draped over Ringo like a piece of silk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Ringo?" George asked. "Do you want to go to the South with me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'Course I do," Ringo hummed. "Would it be just us?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George grunted. "I want to invite Paul and John," he said. "It can be up to them if they come or not, but I want to give them the option."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's fair," Ringo said. He hoped John would decline and Paul would agree. George most likely felt the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Paul, where was he? The day was over yet the ex-captain was nowhere in sight. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>rather secretive, but it was odd for him to be absent for so long. That wasn't even mentioning the fact that he was ill and weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's wrong?" George asked, sensing Ringo's distress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, I haven't seen Paul lately."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blinked and rose slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...You're right," he said, before grabbing Ringo by the arms and pulling him up and out to look outside. The sunset hues pierced through the water. Ringo felt uneasy, but then George squeezed his hand and he felt a little better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They swam along the rocky hills until George pointed at words scratched into the rocks, shallow and messy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo could hear George mumble under his breath, sounding it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words, undoubtedly written by Paul, laid there, weaving dread in the hearts of whoever read it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I left for home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it read.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Hermit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He had no idea what had happened to Ringo. One moment, he was calm and cheerful, the next hysterical and furious… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out, both of those were wrong. Ringo, above all else, was terrified. He was sad and scared and lonely, which ripped at Paul's conscience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the worst part was that he never noticed at all. He had foolishly assumed that he was alright, that everything came naturally to him. Paul wanted to be angry at Ringo for smothering his emotions, for lying to Paul, in a sense. Everything ran backward, it seemed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he went out that day. He froze at Ringo's paranoia and when his mind finally processed it all, Ringo was already gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul ended up going out hunting for his friend but found nothing. The dead fields of coral and rock stretched out endlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He darted out, forcing his tail to thrust as fast as possible, cutting through the water like a bullet. Ringo had told him that marlins were one of the fastest fish in the world, able to glide faster than a…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul frowned. What was that word again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right, a car on land. He felt dizzy and foolish for forgetting about cars. He used to drive one nigh daily, what happened?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul kept going and then felt a current weaving through the open waters. With a subtle tilt of his lower fins, he shifted over into the current and zoomed ahead even faster than before. The water rippled as he sliced through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his ramping concern for Ringo, Paul laughed. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice! </span>
  </em>
  <span>His body glided like a jet, unstoppable. He felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>mighty, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>powerful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He grinned, budding fangs pressed against each other— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spotted a small school of fish swimming in the distance, doing the equivalent of strolling underwater. Paul flicked his tail, shifting its angle slightly and set course for them. As he approached, the fish, small and fat and dumb, seemed to realize that a larger beast was upon them. They pumped through the waters frantically, trying to get away, but Paul was too fast for them. He grinned, then outstretched his claws and fangs to devour his prey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, Paul halted, sending him hurdling into the ground as the smaller fish swam away. For a moment, Paul was overcome with the euphoria of swimming like he was meant to and lost himself, turning into an animalistic beast, just like John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even worse was the fact that the idea of eating them felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>which made Paul want to ram his fist down his throat so he could throw up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell was wrong with him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't want to be a monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't want to be here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, he decided he needed to go back to Earth, to where he had legs and walked and sang and lived a life where things made sense. He had spent thirty-one years a human, and he knew that it was the only way he could live.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to find Ringo, go through the gate, and become human again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as ominous as it was, meddling with magic that he had no concept of, there was no fear. He'd have a friend with him, someone brought light into the dark caves of this world. Paul hadn't talked to a lot of people in the past couple of years. He stayed isolated, far from civilization. He forgot how wonderful it was to have someone. With all remaining doubt squandered, he returned to the cavern, this time at a cautious pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swore to never lose control like that again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once at the familiar statue and garden, the one he and Ringo worked on together, Paul heard something. It was soft giggling, which implied that not only had Ringo found George, they were having a good time. Ringo’s voice was airy and light, George’s gentle and quiet. They were tones that they never showed to Paul. They were private, intimate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, George asked a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Ringo? Do you want to go to the South with me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“ 'Course I do. Would it be just us?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>When those words drifted past Paul’s ears, he realized the truth: he had no place here. Ringo, George, he had never had a place with them. To him, Ringo was simple, George was retreated. Yet outside of his view, they were different, alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if they were in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold of the evening waters suddenly stung against Paul’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned around and took one good last look at the rocky hills. There was no nostalgia, nor admiration for this place. It was a graveyard, a place devoid of feeling and life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Ringo and George left, it would become John’s tomb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul would have left without a second word, but Ringo didn’t need to worry about him disappearing. With his blunted nails, Paul clawed at the ground, scratching lines into the stone. The last thing he wanted was Ringo to search for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the message was completed, Paul folded his arms across his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was doing the right thing; he was leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So why did he feel like this was a mistake?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He forcefully slapped himself. His heart still naively believed he could live out a wondrous life with Ringo here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Call it naivety, call it foolishness, but Paul’s soul refused to let go of the notion. He shook his head. As much as he wanted it to be, a domestic life, one of peace and fulfillment was impossible to obtain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul darted out towards the gate, his head aching. It was hard to see straight, the illuminant lights of the sea burning his retinas. It was all dizzy, and bile forced itself up Paul's throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was an ill man, forced into a reality he could not accept. Home, his old farm, most likely run over with weeds and neglect by now, was his destination. It was not a barren wasteland under the surface. It was not between George and Ringo, pretending to accept his underwater existence. It was back on land, breathing air, walking on legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t realized he was at the tunnels until he collided with a jagged stalagmite. The currents pulsed through the caves, beckoning Paul to throw himself in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need much convincing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was any silver lining, it was the fact that Paul was a marlin, a strong, hardy fish that excelled at ripping through the water. The same currents that demolished the submarine did nothing to Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from the sound of the water rushing through the tunnels, the only thing that could be heard was Paul’s breathing, growing more ragged as time passed. The caves were endless, twisting and warping with no end in sight. Where was the gate? Where was home?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul refused to use his full power, his full speed. Last time he did, he lost control. Not this time, never again, never again. He kept thrusting, but soon the currents grew stronger and Paul’s minimal effort was no longer enough. Pushing through was too much for him, and he had to pause in a small crevice in the side of the caverns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heavy panting punctuated the oppressive atmosphere. Paul had given a pathetic display of his physical prowess. He was stronger than this, but his arms wouldn’t stop shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without thinking about it, he reached out and stroked the golden ring he wore on his finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to make it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a heave, Paul threw himself out of the crevice and dashed forward, breaking through the intense currents. The surrounding waters had taken on a light blue glow, ethereal and otherworldly, but Paul paid it no heed. He was on a mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got to the opening of the tunnels on the other side, the force of the water pushing back was so powerful that it would have ripped apart a weaker fish. Ringo would have died in this current if they hadn’t arrived in the steel submarine. Paul kept pushing, hands outstretched, clawing their way through an invisible barrier. He was almost out, he was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>free— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With a final push, Paul broke through. The pressure of the gate was so immense that he felt like he was cut up by a million glass shards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was any joy in this victory, it was short-lived when Paul realized he was still a merman. His steely grey skin reflected the dull waters of Earth. The pressure was crushing him, threatening his lungs to cave in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go up! </span>
  </em>
  <span>his animal brain cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn’t recall the earthy seas being so… </span>
  <em>
    <span>lifeless. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knew he was miles below the surface, but there was an odd scent in the air, one dredged in death and decay. His bones felt brittle, ready to snap and shatter. Back in the other world, even the wastes were full of vibrant blue water. Here, it was all grey, dead. Even the plants were a drab olive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul kept rising, trying to reach the surface. Swimming straight upwards made his insides lurch but he kept at it. His body threatened to yaw repeatedly, but like a— a— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul forgot the word, but it was that big metal thing that went into space. They talked about it yesterday, how did he already forget?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, he ascended, soaring up towards the heavens. There was an addicting lure calling him up, a sweet scent that he couldn’t ignore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a large shadow there. A shark? A whale? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before fear could take over him, he saw that it was in fact, a boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You remember boats, don’t you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. He came down under the sea in one. He was a captain on one. With every passing moment, more of Paul’s mind was lost. The thought, the idea of being on a ship such as that and being in command felt so odd. It was like trying to imagine a fantasy story. What did humans look like again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul breached the surface and took stock of the ship. It was a medium-sized ship, just sitting on the water, waiting like a predator. The paint was black and white, with a large red stripe running across the side like a manta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More like a black monolith, the boat remained stationary, even with the waves gently lapping against it. Running his hand across it, Paul felt the smooth finish. This ship was made recently, with no signs of any wear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him far too long to realize the sickly-sweet smell in the sea was chum and flesh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fish-bait. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This was a fishing vessel, fortunately not designed to go underwater to hunt for mermaids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul tapped his hand against the hull of the ship, knocking at it in hopes of getting the attention of the people on board. He needed to explain what happened and how to get back home. Yoko was the one who sent them on that cursed voyage. If anyone knew how he could become human again, it was her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bitter chuckle escaped from Paul’s lips. His situation had grown so desperate that he was placing his faith in magic and miracles now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his knocking failed to get any attention, Paul began slamming his tail into the side of the ship, rattling the hull. At the new commotion, the people aboard the ship shuffled out, looking frazzled. Paul peeked his head out above the surface— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then began to choke. His gills were gaping, desperately needing water, pumping in dry air. He couldn’t breathe at all and when he tried to talk, to explain what had happened to him, all that came out was a weathered moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The humans on the ship all stared at him for a moment before one of them, dressed in a sharp, navy blue coat compared to their basic bright-orange overalls shouted. His voice was booming, commanding, but Paul didn’t understand a word of what he said. The language had devolved into gibberish. There were words written on the side of the hull, most likely the vessel’s name, but it was indecipherable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems that when Paul traded his legs in for a tail, he lost any comprehension of English as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he could raise his hands as a gesture of surrender or peace, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>zip </span>
  </em>
  <span>sounded, punctuated with a flash of cold steel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hook had shot out of it, zipping through the air and lodging itself into Paul’s hide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then another. And another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul twisted himself and thrashed against the pull of the hooks ripping into him, but they were barbed and every pull made them hurt more. Soon, his entire lower half was hanging out of the water, the team of humans far stronger than one lone fish. There was nothing for Paul to grab onto, no leverage to help get away. He was at the mercy of these men as soon as he poked his head out of water. He had no way to breathe, nowhere else to turn— and so, he did the only thing he could in a scenario like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the men noticed that Paul had stopped struggling, they didn’t care, roping him in with the same fervor. They were screaming, hollering with joy at their new quarry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only took a few moments for Paul to pass out. What else was he to do? Struggle, then swim for a bit before bleeding out? Limp back to the wastes like a wounded dog so he could feel the bitter pain of loss when George and Ringo inevitably leave? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d explain to these humans what had happened to him. Right now, he didn’t want to be conscious anymore. And if these people killed him, then that would be that.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When he came to, the first thing he felt was the disappointment of still being alive and in pain. The wounds where he was hooked and dragged aboard were sloppily wrapped, and his entire upper torso was bound. The men had prepared a tank full of seawater for Paul to stay in, one that was locked. The cage was made out of glass, allowing the outsiders to peer in, to admire Paul, their most exotic catch yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the men had their face pressed up so close that his nose was scrunched up, looking more like a pig snout. Another was skipping alongside the length of the deck, whooping with joy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with his wrists bound so tight, Paul could still wriggle his fingers. He shifted, reaching for his ring…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And felt nothing but the cold skin on his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those fishermen must have seen the ring and assumed Paul killed another person for it. But even with all their gawking and prodding, Paul couldn’t blame them. He would have acted the same if he was still on the submarine. The other scientists would have dissected him at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except for Ringo; he was far too kind-hearted to do anything like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although this boat was for fishing, the men kept Paul alive. They could have killed Paul and hung his taxidermied corpse up as a trophy. He was lucky, trapped in that cold box. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is for the best, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Paul told himself. His spine was curled up unnaturally, his neck bent at a sharp angle. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You brought this upon yourself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his mind supplied. His wounds ached as they tinged the water around them red. His body was weak and malnourished and rotting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This was a mistake,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hissed to himself. How much he yearned to go back to yesterday! The quiet moments he spent with George, with Ringo, they brought him so much joy. It was a bliss he hadn’t felt in over a year, not since…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Paul went back to yesterday and never learned that Ringo and George were planning to elope without him, then learning about it later would have hurt more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he went back further, before Yoko had ever offered to let him commandeer the submarine, then would he have been happy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. The voyage was an excuse, a front. He agreed because he wanted to escape the world. If he had the power to turn back time, then he would use it for something much greater: he would save the life of Linda.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Never had the void where his ring was felt so painfully empty. He missed her, even though it was a year since she passed away, he still yearned for her. Every time he slept, he’d reach out and feel someone and get so excited, remembering what it was like to hold her and then feeling weird plates and scales and realizing what a backward hell he lived in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t stop reaching out in his sleep, however. Those two… they were strange, different, unique. They gave Paul brevity that he only felt when he was with Lin, the kind of lightness and joviality that you felt when you had just fallen in love for the first time. He had grown too attached; he realized this when Ringo went on his own for the day and came back dismembered in John’s arms. That pain he felt, it was so bitter and awful and he couldn’t bring himself to show emotion in front of Ringo. He couldn’t bear to let him know how much he cared because Paul didn’t want to care— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts weren’t making sense anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just— lives are so fragile. Linda’s was claimed by cancer, and no amount of money or prestige or work could have changed that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he had the power to turn back time, to prevent himself from ever meeting her to avoid the pain of inevitably losing her… he wouldn’t. Perhaps he liked her too much, perhaps he was idiotic and stubborn, but Paul wouldn’t want to change that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t recovered from it all; he hadn’t been able to accept it yet. And he didn’t want to give his heart out to someone else just to repeat it all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only natural he’d run away from the only friends he has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul cast a dreary look outside of the tank. He might not be able to comprehend English anymore, but he knew humans and merfolk could read facial expressions. When they made no motion to leave, instead revealing the camera they brought along with them, Paul turned so his back was facing them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no clue what would happen to him next. Either displayed in an aquarium or stuck in some government facility like Julia. Being locked up made him sympathize with John, for this was the pain his mother went through, but worse. She had ended up dead, and any rescue to come and save her would have been in vain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boat was stagnant, floating in the middle of the ocean. Maybe they were hoping to get another mermaid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the boat wasn’t going to move, then John would be able to find them purely by the scent of blood in the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, willing away the thoughts of any possibility of rescue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet his warming heart raced in his chest.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Fool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for gore and violence and dismemberment </p><p>also fitting for the fact that this is chapter 13</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"He's… gone?" George asked, voice laced with pain. Ringo couldn't blame him; Paul was their friend. Although, selfishly, he didn't feel that much pain. He knew that he'd get over it now that he had George, and Ringo despised himself for acknowledging it, even if it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, it'll be okay," Ringo said, voice eerily calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why did he leave…?" George whispered, lanky arms reaching up to hold himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, it's not your fault!" Ringo exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, looking down at the jagged words. Ringo could only assume guilt was coursing through his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, George lowered his arms and looked out, towards the direction of the tunnels. Before Ringo could say anything, he turned back towards the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo, let’s go to sleep,” he muttered weakly. Ringo wanted to argue back, say that they should look for Paul, but George was already drifting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Paul?” he shouted after George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He left,” George simply replied. “It was his decision to; we can’t make him stay against his will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an echo of his attitude towards John, but it felt wrong. Ringo liked Paul, he cared about Paul, and yet they were leaving him behind without a second thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His anxieties dissipated, however, when George held him as they headed to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is okay…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After several long moments of waiting, Ringo had finally passed out, and George rose. He felt bad for lying to Ringo, but George knew the world outside of the gate was dangerous. He needed to find Paul, talk to him, but he couldn’t risk hurting Ringo. He went into the back room and pulled out a satchel filled with tools before kissing Ringo gently on the forehead. George then left, thoughts of John flickering through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John would have been able to snuff out Paul’s location in an instant, but George decided that he would never agree to help search for Paul. No, it was up to George, and George alone, lest he dare risk Ringo’s safety. It was heart-wrenching to see Ringo come back in John’s arms missing a tentacle, even if it was half-grown back at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t risk it, especially when he was strong enough to do this on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George swam to the entrance of the tunnels, before bracing himself. The currents were strong; usually, he’d just hitch a ride on John’s back, letting the shark use his powerful tail to force himself through the tunnels. Now that he was on his own, he had to crawl along the sides of the caves, digging his nails into the rock to use as an anchor point. Paul left for home, which George knew was beyond the gate. Even so, a terrible anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach. George had never been beyond the gate on his own before. It wasn’t too late to turn back and get John— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, no, no, he didn’t need John’s help. He could do this on his own. George was smart and cunning, so even if he wasn’t the strongest or fastest, he was far from helpless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, George inched his way forward. The currents were at their most powerful right at the border between this world and the next. As soon as he passed over, he would have to swim up quickly. The immediate pressure would be lethal, not to mention the strange horrors that lurked near the gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be fine because George had a plan. He knew what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a final push, George broke through the gate and instantly began to ascend, rising higher and higher towards the moon. Ringo and Paul called this world “Earth.” George would never understand why they would ever want to live here. The earthly seas were more toxic and heavier, the pressure deadlier, the water murkier. Maybe it was different on land, but the seas always had a scent of death about them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When George finally reached the surface, he stuck his head out to look around. It was hard to fight the instinctive urge to take in the air through his gills, but George held his breath as he scouted out the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was all stars and clouds, the ocean waving turbulently. As he stared, he noticed the full moon above him. Ringo said humans had gone to the moon before. Were there little moon-houses there? </span>
  <em>
    <span>That would be cute,</span>
  </em>
  <span> George thought, before shaking his head. He was looking for Paul, not moon-men off in space. There’d be time for that later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dipped his gills back underwater and popped his head back above the surface. He wanted to know why Paul left. It was obvious the marlin wasn’t happy deep-down, but he had enjoyed the time they had spent together. Was it something George did? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With every passing second where George didn’t find anything, along with his increasingly dark thoughts, his hope evaporated. Ringo said they couldn’t help John if John didn’t want to be helped. Did the same apply to Paul? And if so, was all of this a waste of time? He loved John and he loved Paul. He didn’t want to leave them; he wanted everyone to just be happy together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished he brought Ringo with him, he’d know what to say. Ringo would hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright, and George would believe him because he trusted him a lot. After all, Ringo cared about him. He made him happy and he wanted to make Paul and John happy so they could all stop being so sad and miserable all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew his worldview was simple, naive, but George was tired of it. He was tired of giving his heart to others just for it to get spat on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could turn around right now and pretend Paul never existed and go with Ringo and live in the South— he could do it right now, and make it back before Ringo ever wakes up and notices he’s gone— he could and it would make everything nice and easy and perfect— but he couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked Paul, a lot. The marlin had taught him so many things and had spent a lot of nights keeping him company. Even if they meant very little to Paul, George cherished those moments. They made him feel warm on the inside— a warmth that although Ringo supplied, he wanted more of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George froze. In the distance, there was a dark mass where no stars shone. He shifted to the side and realized that it was a large, black object, one that was almost invisible against the night sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a second thought, George darted towards it. He’d investigate, and if it had nothing to do with Paul, he’d head home. He didn’t want to make Ringo worry if he stayed out for too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he approached, the mass revealed itself to be a boat, surrounded by the raw scent of blood. It was intoxicating as it was rotten. George was terrified of humans, especially after what had happened to John’s mother, yet something was luring him closer…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Paul, his blood faintly intermingled with the rest. Paul was aboard that ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George cautiously circled it. There were no humans in sight, it being the dead of night. The ship was still, sitting on the surface of the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, George saw it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a tank on the deck, one made of glass, and within it was Paul, who looked equal parts ecstatic and horrified. George was going to save him no matter what and dived under the surface. He took a deep breath, and thrust out of the water, catching the rails with his clawed hands and hoisting himself onto the deck. Closer, he could see Paul was tied up and locked in the glass box. He had no air, so he had to be fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbed up to the top of the tank that held Paul, staring at the two locks that held the lid firmly in place. Paul was speaking, but it was indecipherable to George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and John used to bring down ships together and loot them. John would do the heavy lifting, sinking the boats and fighting off anyone who came near. It was George’s job to scour the boat, and that included lockpicking. It was a skill he had practiced, something that he could do that John couldn’t. It made him useful, worth bringing along. George took great pride in his skill, the one he learned all on his own, the one John praised him for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first lock clicked open after George’s finagling with the metal pins he brought. He shifted his attention to the second one, smiling to himself. It was good he didn’t bring John with. If he did, John would have tried to smash the tank and the humans on board would wake up and fight back. George’s way was safer and faster and no one had to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made short work of the second lock and threw it into the ocean before throwing himself into the tank with Paul. It was a tight squeeze, but that meant they were pressed up together and George would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the sensation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul…” he muttered. “I came to save you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Paul rasped out. His scales were flaky, peeling off in spots, and his fins were ragged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t expect that question in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… don’t you want to be saved?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul’s eyes turned dark. “I… do, but...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be happy without me or John, just you and Ringo. You don’t need me,” Paul said. “He’s your friend—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so are you!” George shouted in his face. “You’re not making any sense!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need me around,” Paul explained. “Just go back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George had many different concepts of how the rescue would go. He thought that the worst outcome was that George would find his desecrated corpse floating somewhere, but somehow, this was worse. He couldn’t understand it at all. Why didn’t he want to be saved?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word, George started gnawing at the ropes binding Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, stop!” Paul shouted, his tail hitting George as he thrashed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No— I’m not leaving without you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Paul reared his head back and sent it crashing into George’s skull, knocking him back. George winced, clutching his pounding temples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Paul muttered. “But I can’t go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? ‘Cause you’re delusional?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul’s eyes were half-lidded, his skin dull. George refused to listen to his words on the foundation that it was his feverous mind making it up. It was impossible to fathom that Paul was happier here, in this glass cage, waiting for death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With newfound vigor, George once again sawed at the ropes, his nails slicing through them like paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, stop!” Paul wailed. “You love Ringo, so go back to him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t I love you too?” George hissed as he kept at the knots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s different!” Paul yelled back, voice cracking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that instant, George let go of the ropes and slammed into Paul, their mouths locked together in an aggressive, fervent kiss. Paul’s pupils dilated with shock before relaxing, accepting what was happening and discovering that a warm static overcame his body. His heart was beating so fast that it threatened to burst out of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...And how is it different?” George asked, slightly panting as he pulled away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was everything Paul wanted. George had just given him the one thing he craved most, the only thing holding him back was his fear of losing it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew George wouldn’t lie to him… but he couldn’t stop the painful impetus to cry. Of course, he was underwater so nothing came out, but his throat constricted, his face contorted with pain. He felt like a child again, unable to control the world around him and thus doing the only thing he could: cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it that you want?” George asked, seeing his distress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...” Paul moaned, “I want to go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A soft smile grew on George’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s go, together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George broke the last of the bindings and slid towards the side, as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>After you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>like a gentleman. It was foolish. Paul was the older one, he should be looking out after George, not the other way around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul braced himself, taking in as much water as could through his gills before lunging out of the tank and straight into the water. The water rang out with a resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>crash! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He turned, watching George do the same—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it all went to hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George jumped out of the tank but was far from being as strong or graceful as Paul. He was weaker and landed on the deck first before crawling over to the edge. Paul held his arm out to catch him and then heard the distinctive sound of metal ringing out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The steel door leading to the interior of the ship slammed open, the captain standing in the doorway, the same sandy-haired, coated man from before. He ran forward and lunged, throwing himself on top of George, wrestling with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s tail slid out from under the man, falling into the water along with the bulk of George’s mass. Paul quickly grabbed George by his midsection and began tugging. But the captain had a firm grip on his left arm and was pulling at it, desperate to get George at any cost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their ears were filled with the sound of water frantically churning as George screamed in terror, the captain grunting like a beast as he kept grabbing at George, his nails digging into his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More men flooded out onto the ship and began grabbing at the arm. George wailed again from the pain, and one of them pulled out something that gleamed in the moonlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blade plunged into George’s arm, right below the shoulder, where Paul heard a sickening crunch before his ears were flooded with George’s pained shrieks. The sound was so loud and deafening he couldn’t hear anything at all, the noise akin to the wail of a banshee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was blood everywhere, and George’s tugging turned into panicked struggling. The man with the knife was racketing the blade around in the wound, blood pouring and gushing out into the waters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t move his arm anymore and the sheer force of the men dragged him up higher and out of the water. He couldn’t breathe anymore and they almost had him and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he was going to die— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he saw the knife lodged in his arm and realized what he had to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the blade, his fingers getting sliced by its cruel edge, and plunged it further into his arm before twisting it and ramming it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men screamed with anger as George drifted away underwater, free from their grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had felt so much pain that it overloaded his senses, putting him </span>
  <em>
    <span>into a state where he felt nothing anymore…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Paul was frantically swimming about, his body having turned into a black mass above him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The water all around him was red... blood… his own. There was so much tension, everyone pulling and tugging, and now it was all over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...paul...” he rasped out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t leave, please, I need— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” Paul said, his voice frantic but so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so quiet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He whimpered. He felt…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>cold,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>cold...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. What's Left</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Ringo woke up that morning, he had forgotten about Paul, opting to cuddle up next to George. He stretched out, letting his tentacles fall over his newfound lover— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they collided with the cold stone floor of the cave. His eyes darted around, searching for George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he saw John looming over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are they?” John asked, voice dripping with venom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo blinked. “...who?” he groggily asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul and Geo!” John hissed. “Did they fuckin’ leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geo wouldn’t...” Ringo blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his head. “No, George should be right here,” he said, before realizing that it was just him and John. Dread bubbled in the pit of his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ringo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul went beyond the gate,” Ringo numbly said. “And George told me not to go after him—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit—” </span>
  </em>
  <span>John hissed, darting out of the cavern. His eyes were wide, his mouth drawn into a snarl, muscles clenched. John was afraid, and Ringo had never seen him like that before. His fear and anxiety turned into full-blown nausea at the sight and he had to fight the urge to hurl. His head was spinning— he was going to pass out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smell that, right?!” John asked, demanding an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smell what?” Ringo had no idea what he was talking about, but then he saw something in the distance, in the direction of the gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What wasn’t concerning was the fact that the figure was limping heavily. No, it was the disgustingly large trail of red following them, like a crimson tear in the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John swam up ahead to them, Paul weakly drifting forward, carrying George’s limp body. Someone sobbed. John took George and turned around.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looks like glass, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo numbly thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>like a broken porcelain doll. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked so thin and frail. He reminded Ringo of a paper crane that got soaked in water and disintegrated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the blood in his veins had frozen. All the impulses of the world felt faint and distant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...what happened?” he asked, his voice a faint whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John had taken George, curled up around the unconscious man, and took him inside the cavern before Ringo could even catch a glimpse of the nightmarish wound. There was so much blood in the water… you weren't supposed to bleed that heavily—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“P-Paul...” he rasped out. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at his friend, only to see what a weathered husk Paul had become. His skin, once a lustrous silver, was now matte and dull. His eyes were bloodshot and weary. Paul looked at Ringo, his glassy eyes not quite seeing, but rather, </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...it’s all my fault,” he muttered. “It’s all...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth stopped moving, and his head tilted down, like an animatronic whose servos just got cut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo swam forward to the cavern, where John and George were waiting. There, he saw John scrambling to clean the wound, making a kind of makeshift tourniquet. He ran his fingers through George’s matted hair. His body was obscuring George’s, but Ringo didn’t dare interrupt them. How could he, when John’s shoulders trembled and his voice wavered? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an expression of pure sorrow, like crying. John was in anguish, and the words that spilled out of his mouth…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I’m so sorry," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, George… How did I ever let this happen? I should have been there for you, I should have been watching you. I can’t lose you too… I love you too much. I love you, man, I don’t know what I’d do. I’m scared, so, so scared."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George… oh, George…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the vestiges of a psyche that John had smothered down years ago. It was the John who hadn’t lost his mother to humans, the John that George had fallen in love with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a way, it was like seeing him for the first time, meeting someone entirely new. Ringo wouldn’t dare approach, for this was John’s moment. He’d let him cry himself out first. Seeing them together… well, he believed it when George said he was different, that they loved each other. It was an image so delicate that Ringo held his breath in fear of shattering it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he went to Paul. Initially, he had the urge to scream at him, to yell at him and tell him that it was his fault, whatever happened to George. Paul left and George got hurt looking for him. If Paul hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was wrong and foolish and he knew it. Was it Ringo’s fault for going into the abyss and losing his limb? No, it was the goblin shark that had attacked him. And it was whoever hurt George that was to blame, not Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had gone up to the marlin and shared his thoughts, telling him this. But Paul just shook his head and stared at the ground. His glassy eyes reflected the world around him, no light piercing through to its murky depths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was dying too, he realized. His wounds were shallow, but it was his mind that was fractured. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re not injured like them, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>John’s taking care of George, and you have to take care of Paul now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You know that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul said nothing, trapped in his own head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d still have his arm if I didn’t leave,” Paul said. “He wasn’t supposed to look for me. He… he was going to stay here and be happy with you. He wasn’t supposed to love me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo refused to let the shock of hearing about his arm show on his face. In a calm voice, he said, “You didn’t tear it off of him. Whatever happened out there, it’s not your fault. You didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if I never existed, you’d all be better off. You and George would go South, or maybe the voyage would have gone better. You would have caught a mermaid and be famous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not what I want,” Ringo said. “Listen, back on the surface, back home, I had nothing and no one. I was a nobody, going through the motions like a piece of driftwood. I… I’ve never had any friends. And then I met you and the crew, and the sub sank, and I met George, and we made leis and a garden and read books and did all this little shit… It’s weird, it’s stressful, but it’s that simple stuff that makes me happy. ‘Cause I’ve never had somebody to do that junk with before. I wasn’t even Richard Starkey, I was nobody. I could’ve killed myself back then and no one would have even noticed. I’ve thought about it too, and it’s terrifying to think about,” he said, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t mean to ramble, but I guess if you told me I’d turn into an octopus on that submarine, I’d have never agreed. But now that I’m here, I wouldn’t want to change a thing. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, no one moved, the world frozen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, Paul’s gaze drifted up and they made eye contact, Paul’s eyes slightly wavering. He had never noticed before but they were a shade of hazel, bright and beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo reached out and grasped Paul’s hand gently, his tentacles subconsciously curling around the older man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to do,” Paul muttered. “I’m scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay to be scared,” Ringo said. “We all are, but I know George is strong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He made me go first. In the tank,” Paul said. “He was the weaker of us but he wanted me to go first, and I jumped into the water and the sound woke up the humans. If he hadn’t—” Paul’s voice cracked. “If he went first, then we would have gotten away. If I was just stronger and told him to go, he wouldn’t have… it wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t...” He shuddered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t change what happened,” Ringo said. “And you didn’t know that you’d get caught by humans when you left. How could you have known?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t thinking,” Paul said. “If I were—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey. You messed up, but that’s okay. You know what you do when you make a mistake? You go out there and make it right. George cares about you a lot. He snuck out all on his own to save you. If you won’t keep going forward for yourself, then at least do it for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo said this, but when Paul remained silent, he feared it was the wrong thing. He wanted to help, but he was far from being an expert in these matters. He didn’t want Paul to retreat into himself again, he didn’t want— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Paul whispered, voice so frail. “...can you stay here, for just a moment longer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For as long as you need,” Ringo muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up spending the rest of the day in each other’s somber company, silently watching the sun pass overhead. By the time night approached, they were drained from doing nothing. It was postponing, really, putting off having to face George for as long as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, their time of reckoning came as soon as the bright lights of the abyss came. They shuffled into the cavern and braced themselves for the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first sensation was the sickly scent of blood permeating through the water.. Paul told him what happened, yet seeing George unconscious with the entirety of his left arm gone was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>painful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It took the breath out of Ringo, making him halt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he looked around it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John had wrapped up the wound neatly, far cleaner than Ringo would have expected. He was holding George in his sleep, clutching him tightly, yet not hard enough to cause discomfort. His face was relaxed, buried partially into George’s thick hair. Even George himself looked peaceful, no tension in his face. He looked soft, at ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Ringo realize that it was going to be okay. Seeing George like that, asleep and unaware of his pain, John holding him, protecting him… everything was going to be alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo curled up close to the prone pair and buried himself into the bed. His eyes began to drift close—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he caught sight of Paul floating in the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close the door and c’mere,” Ringo muttered, hand outstretched. Paul snapped out of his reverie and hefted the massive stone in front of the doorway before hesitantly sliding in next to Ringo. He was on the opposite side of the cavern as George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo let out an airy exhale, not quite strong enough to be a laugh, but still amused. He shimmied over closer to George, bringing Paul with him, and let himself fall asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His dreams were lifeless, too faint and distant to remember. To Ringo, it was a dead sleep, the only image he could see were rows of crystalline cocoons, ready for whatever laid inside to emerge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever was inside them, Ringo never found out. He ended up waking prematurely to a whimpering that only grew in volume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In John's arms, George's relaxed expression turned to one of pain. His lips twitched, face contorted to show off a row of gritted fangs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he began to thrash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tail swung through the air, and then slammed all over the place, George writhing in John's grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, John's tail was large and heavy. If it hit you, it would knock the air out of you and send you flying. George's tail was nowhere near as bulky and as such, when it hit you, it was like a bladed whip, stinging like hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, John knew this, and tried to hold George to stop him from hurting anyone in his nightmare. At least, that's what Ringo assumed until his ears functioned again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"My arm," </span>
  </em>
  <span>George cried, </span>
  <em>
    <span>"it </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>hurts!</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George kept growling and clawing, scratching at John, trying to break free, to reach out and hold his burning arm—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was nothing there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo could see it in his eyes. George looked confused, disoriented. To him, he still felt the pain of a limb long gone by now, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>where did it go?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, once he saw John's expression, the memories hit him with the force of a typhoon...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh…” he muttered, sinking into John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and held his bound shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...it still hurts," he moaned. "It feels like it's still here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was the first to speak. "It's alright," he muttered. "You're still alive and that's what matters."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was panting, chest convulsing with fear and pain. "Paul," he said suddenly, "is Paul alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul remained silent, but George found him near the sides of the cavern and his face shifted. He wasn't smiling, per se, but it had softened, his grimace less defined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at them, Ringo could see how mangled they had become. Paul was a living corpse, George a scared child. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, George, are you hungry?" Ringo quietly asked when silence overtook the cavern. George bit his lip, very obviously feeling sick and weak and terrible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A little," he muttered, afraid that if he ate any more than that, he would hurl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll get you some—" John and Ringo both said at the same time. They stared at each other, in both surprise and hesitancy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo knew that George was hurting and that his presence might have helped reassure and calm him. Yet, he knew that George and Paul and John needed to talk things out. No one knew how to handle each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, John would probably kill some giant fish and then the cavern would stink of blood and that was not what they needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll go," Ringo said, turning towards the entrance. Paul rose and opened up the entryway for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Let me come," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Don't be scared of him," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo muttered back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"You like him, right? Then talk to him."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And with that, Ringo left the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe putting three emotionally stunted men in a cave together was a bad idea, but Ringo couldn't do it all. They all had love and admiration for each other; surely that was worth something? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worth more than an arm, at any rate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of going all the way to the gardens, Ringo stuck around home. There was less food around, but he didn't want to stray too far from George. It wasn't that big of an issue, for Ringo did find a few spiny crustaceans. He doubted George had much of an appetite anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He meandered for a bit coming back, for he felt like it was too soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're anxious, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice from the back of his head called. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can't stand the sight of his butchered shoulder, that gaping void where his arm used to be. You want to run away and place the burden of dealing with it on Paul's shoulders.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo shook his head. Not today, not now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He strode towards the cavern with a noticeable gain in speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George wasn't a burden, never would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't know what would happen when he left everyone alone in the cavern but a tepid silence felt expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey there," Ringo called. "What'd you guys talk about while I was gone?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...oh, you know..." Paul demurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know, actually," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, the weather, funny stories, the fact that George's arm is fuckin' gone, fishing." He said it all in a calm voice that Ringo almost missed it. Paul looked scared, George looked pained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was time for the ultimate gambit. Ringo had to break the tension in the air, and he was going to do it the only way he knew how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm?" he asked. John and George looked confused, Paul went from scared to </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo, don't you dare—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, cause he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>all right </span>
  </em>
  <span>now!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence followed. Paul wanted the Earth to swallow him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, George let out a wheeze. He snorted, then muffled it with his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George muttered in between chuckles. He was smiling, rising to sit up, and the tension dissipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Brought you a snack," Ringo said, showing off his bounty. He had the foresight to kill them outside for the sake of Paul's comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I have a crab?" John asked, pointing to the small handful of creatures Ringo had collected. Ringo handed one off to John, then George. John, with his powerful, serrated jaws, ate it whole and then picked bits of shell out of his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George, on the other hand…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, he'd use his deft claws to deshell the creatures for their juicy meat, but George was down a limb. Before Ringo could offer his help, George lifted the crab to his mouth and used his fangs like hooks to pierce the shell and remove it. It took longer than it would have normally, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See, you don't need your other arm," John said, causing George to punch him in the side, dropping his meal in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked absolutely mortified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Ringo realized that George </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>stronger than he assumed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments of eating, George stopped, dropping the crustacean in his hand. "I feel sick," he muttered, despite only having two. He leaned back, but instead of turning to John, he curled up in Ringo's lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John looked sad, jealous, almost hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll leave you two to get some rest then," he said, the joviality in his voice gone. He left the cavern, and Paul stared at his retreating form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll uh, follow him," he muttered, leaving as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were out of sight, the cavern felt bigger, more empty and dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned himself over so he was laying on top of Ringo. "Thank you," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're welcome?" Ringo replied, slightly confused as to why George was grateful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just, thanks for staying the same. Paul, he's…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, instead drawing himself closer to Ringo. He could feel their heartbeats synchronize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't mind the arm. If you were in trouble, I'd give up both of them to save you, y'know? It hurts, but I wouldn't regret it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's… really selfless of you," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just mad, I guess. I lost my arm and Paul can't even look at me. But you're still the same, so thank you," George said, leaning up higher to place a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips before nuzzling the crook of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wrapped himself around George, holding him..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you," he whispered, praying that it was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And outside, Ringo could just hear John's voice over George's soft snoring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words he heard were enough to cleanse Ringo of the strife in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was abhorrent how it took George's suffering to finally break through to John, but hearing those words gave him so much hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"We're going South," </span>
  </em>
  <span>John said.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Titans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite George’s bravado, he was hurting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, their conversations are calm. George would mention little sensations that bugged him, like, “my left arm itches and I can’t scratch it anymore,” or, “opening jars now is tough.” Those were minor inconveniences, easily manageable. All John had to do was make a lame joke and George would stop looking at the void in his shoulder, maybe even crack a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then there were the times where a sigh and a groan wasn’t enough. Sometimes, he’d wake up screaming and writhing like a snake with its head chopped off. He’d spasm and jerk before his mind remembered who and where he was. Ringo had quickly realized that George hadn’t accepted his dismemberment. He was simply trying to ignore it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For Paul, however, he couldn’t focus on anything but the arm. George had bled so much that the cavern reeked, and the scent seemed to drive the marlin insane. Even the stench was too much for John at times, who had begun to sleep outside at George’s request. He knew it wasn’t out of malice, because he was pushing away the others as well. That was fine. If George wanted to sleep alone, John would respect that. But he would still stay right outside, keeping an eye out for his mate. It was the least he could do. Ringo was small and deft; he could feed George and keep him company. John was big and clumsy and strong; he could protect them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That meant that Paul had no place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After George had gotten injured, he had lost a lot of blood. He slept most of the time and ate little. It was obvious that he was in no condition to go anywhere, from the way he had shut himself up inside his head. He’d spend the bulk of his days awake, but curled up so tightly that he was dead to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was understandable; he had always liked being alone. The many times he had disappeared to go to the gardens was a testament to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Paul? He didn’t lose his arm. He didn’t spend every moment in agony. He was supposed to be big and strong and mighty, yet instead, he was a husk. “Comatose” was the word Ringo had used to describe him. John had to agree. Paul was more similar to a corpse than a living person. He didn’t eat or talk or move at all. And John found that he couldn’t feel much sympathy for the man. If Paul was content to just let himself die, then so be it. It wasn’t his problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were going to move South; John had promised it to George. But if Paul wasn’t even going to bother lifting a finger, then why should they bring him along? No Paul meant more food for the rest of them. It meant faster travel, and when going somewhere that you’ve never been, then it could mean the difference between life and death. What if something was hunting them down and Paul was too slow to get away? Then Ringo or George would try to be a hero and save him, and then John would be left along with everyone dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit—” John hissed as he tore apart the makeshift rope in his hands by accident. He hadn’t realized how tense he was, his heart pounding, hands clenched. Now he had to weave together more kelp to make another rope. George would normally do it, but he was in no condition to, which meant it was up to John. He had done a </span>
  <em>
    <span>passable </span>
  </em>
  <span>job, but it was obvious that he was no craftsman. He’d ask Ringo but the octopus was George’s support right now. And he already accepted Paul would be of no use to him. He hated this dainty work; he’d much rather hunt or kill than this. It was a shame that Ringo and George had trouble eating bigger fish. If they did, it would have made preparing much easier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had finished another strand of rope when Ringo approached, looking worried, but none the worse for wear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George wanted some alone time right now,” he said. At his words, John felt a spiteful glee. It wasn't that he was cruel but more that he didn't like seeing Ringo and George so close together. If John's primitive heart was more developed, he'd have known the feeling was jealousy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, always has,” John said. “Even when everyone still lived here. He liked to go off to think.” The rope he had made had several spots where it had bunched up. To distract himself from the shoddy job he did, he looked at Ringo. “I noticed your tentacle grew back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh, yeah, it did,” Ringo said, flexing it. The regrown tentacle was slightly brighter in color than the others, just barely noticeable. If you didn’t know, you would have missed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should cut off your arm and give it to him,” John hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… don’t think that’s how it works,” Ringo muttered. “But if it did, I would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John chuckled and took the rope in his hands and got back to his task.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you doing?” Ringo then asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m makin’ a cart,” John said. “George can’t hunt right now so we gotta bring food for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo looked over John’s handiwork. The cart itself, more of a sled due to the lack of wheels, was made out of driftwood tied together with kelp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you get the wood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found it, collected it. You know how it goes. I think it was George’s idea, but we stopped after Alex told us it was garbage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds about right,” Ringo said. “Do you need any help with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got it,” John said. “I think you need to do something about Paul, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his words, Ringo’s expression faded away, replaced with something darker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just needs time,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well! How much time are we talkin’ here? ‘Cause we gotta fuckin’ move and I ain’t draggin’ a dead man behind me the whole time!” John snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that simple,” Ringo replied, voice tempered like steel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care how complicated it is! The point is—” John took a breath— “that he’s just sittin’ there dyin’! George is the one who lost his arm, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>why the fuck is Paul the one who’s sufferin’?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. When it was put like that, he really couldn’t come up with a dignified response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George cares about Paul,” Ringo said. “And as much as Paul wants to, he can’t accept that. He thinks it’s his fault George got hurt, and that George hates him for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean— doesn’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo paused, then shook his head. “It’s complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s complicated,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” John echoed in a whiny voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! It’s true!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s the problem then, innit?” John sneered. “George wants to talk to Paul and Paul won’t even listen to him! It’s not complicated at all!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo gaped at him, eyes slowly widening with fear. And he had good reason to, for John had come up with an idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep working on the cart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said Paul cares about George, right? Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>let’s fuckin’ prove it,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>John said with a crooked grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John, what are you— John? John!” Ringo shouted after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But John was already far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul had holed himself up in one of the empty caves, more of a rudimentary stone hut. John thought it was Klaus's originally, but his memory was shoddy. It could have easily been Cyn's or Pete's for all he knew. It felt like he didn't know anything these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he knew he had a massive problem to fix when he saw Paul huddled up, deathly still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's the man of the hour!" John boomed, proudly sauntering over to lay next to Paul. "I need someone fuckin' normal to talk to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul slightly tilted his head in confusion but made no other motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I get it, y'know. It's shite, havin' to deal with those two."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what..?" Paul slowly asked, voice hoarse from a lack of use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're just incompetent on their own. Always runnin' off, gettin' hurt… I don't blame you for wantin' to get away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul faltered for a moment, unsure of what he wanted to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not why..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shhh, don't worry, your secret's safe with me," John cooed. "Those two can march South to their deaths. But you? You're nice and strong. You don't need to be tied down by them," John continued, watching Paul's expression darken. His words were having an emotional impact, but the marlin still didn't move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're better off without those two. Ringo just whines and moans, and George just keeps cryin' to himself. They're just racin' to get themselves killed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George… cares about you," Paul whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please. George'll fall in love with anyone who throws him a bone. His love means nothing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul shook his head. "That's not— you're mistaken," he said, his voice rising in volume.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So he </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>can</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> feel…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's just desperate. He pulls you in an' then drags you down. That's why we gotta get out. You an' me, no weaklings to leech off of our food."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… that's not what I want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then what do you want? I don't know if you know this, but us bigger fish are supposed to eat little guys like them," John sneered and watched as horror crept onto Paul's face. "Let's fuckin' face it, they're worthless."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul steadily rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And George? Without that arm, he's just a waste of space."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul's fists clenched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Honestly, I don't know why you brought him back! </span>
  <em>
    <span>He's better off dead!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Crack!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>John flew backwards, the breath knocked out of his lungs. He expected Paul to stand up for himself, for George, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not to smash his face in!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John wanted to get a reaction out of Paul, to prove the guy was still alive, but, well…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a shark. And like a shark, he didn’t back down from a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He threw himself at Paul and slammed him to the ground, but Paul just shot his elbow into his stomach, the pain causing him to loosen his grip. Paul slid out from under him but John tackled him out of the cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul threw a hook to John’s left temple, rattling his brains. John reared his head back and slammed it into Paul’s forehead. They kept it on, matching each other blow-for-blow, two titans slugging it out. John was surprised at how good of a fighter Paul was. He was supposed to be sick and starving, yet the marlin was holding up remarkably well. Out of the two, he was physically weaker, yet he was able to dodge John’s punches. He knew how to fight, how to read his opponent. He wasn’t a mindless beast like John was used to fighting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But John didn’t let that deter him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sent his fists towards Paul, throwing them with such a frantic force that Paul couldn’t possibly dodge or block. He kept at it, and soon a loud hiss followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Paul, whose nose just got broken. In the blurring sensations of pain, John grabbed him by his midsection and sent him hurtling towards the statue in the center of the garden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, they just stared at each other, their heavy panting filling the air. John was in shock at how exhausted he was, and Paul, bleeding and hurt, found his heart was pounding so quickly it would break out of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got a killer right hook, mate,” John huffed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re a piece of shit,” Paul growled before darting off of the broken remains of the statue and lunging at John. They kept at it, but their fighting had become wilder, thrashing about and destroying their surroundings. The garden, with its gorgeous sea-flowers, was uprooted, petals dancing around them. The cart, the plants, even the ground beneath them was demolished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, it ended. John was simply the stronger opponent and pinned Paul under him. Their faces were inches apart, close enough to smell each other’s breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Paul spat when it became apparent he was too weak to get out from under John. He simply had no energy left to struggle, so he glared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hah, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you really had it in you, huh?” John wheezed out. Paul just stared back, his expression of anger turning to confusion, and then finally understanding. “Most people don’t punch a shark over a little disagreement.” And then he began to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You… wanted me to…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John tapped him on the shoulder. “I wanted to prove you cared,” he said. “I didn’t expect to get decked, though,” he softly chuckled. Paul just gaped back, mouth parted. Then, his gaze slowly drifted to where he had hit John in the face. They were going to be so bruised tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck are you apologiz— Oh.” Looking around them, they had destroyed their surroundings, including the garden Ringo and Paul had worked on. John only caught glimpses of when it was made, but Paul seemed happy then. But now, he looked so sad, so miserable. The fire that sparked inside was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” John said. “It was a pretty shitty garden anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean— shit— mate, you can make a better one when we move,” John quickly said. “Hell, we're probably gonna have to build a new house too,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul let out a small grunt of acknowledgment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, me mum— she..." John faltered. "She told me that when you make a mistake, you can't undo it, so you just gotta make it better instead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You? Make things better?" Paul asked, John almost blindsided by his response. Was that… sarcasm?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To be fair, when she told me that, I had just punched George in the face," John admitted. "And I told her to piss off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul let out an exhale through his nose. Almost, but not quite, a snort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you going to do, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gonna start by fixing that cart we smashed," John huffed, picking up bits of smashed rope and wood. Without needing to ask, Paul followed behind and examined the debris before taking the ruined rope and trying to fix the mangled cord.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John felt something stir inside him. Admiration? Pride? He had no clue but soon began to hum to himself as he worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After two verses, Paul very hesitantly joined in. Turns out he could whistle, and John quickly imitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their song ended with a flourish, even if the cart was nowhere close to being fixed. But that was okay; they wouldn’t leave until George recovered anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna be honest with you," John said. "George is miserable right now. And it's your fault," he said, watching Paul stiffen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But it's my fault too, for keepin' him here. And it's the guys who chopped off his arm, and his old friends who didn't stick with him, and the humans that killed </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>all those years ago. There's a lot of bad shit out there, so you just gotta take it and focus on the good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's not much good here..." Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're right, there's not. But George is hurtin', an' I think that knowin' his friends cared about him would make his world a little less cold."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his words, Paul seemed to space out, the world going through him. Then, he gave the softest nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's the spirit!" John cheered, throwing an arm around Paul and playfully tapping him on the nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At the very least, you got one bad day to make up for, </span>
  </em>
  <span>John thought.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I've got twelve years.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, there was a reason George loved Ringo and Paul and not him. He couldn't say he should be surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a deep breath, he and Paul returned to the cavern like old comrades. They were nervous, no doubt about that, but when Ringo greeted them warmly, it helped relieve them of their fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I saw what happened outside," Ringo said. "I'm glad you're okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course we are," John said. "Just some playful wrestlin', you know how it goes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John could understand Ringo's thoughts based purely on his expression. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That didn't look playful to me…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"How's George?" Paul interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's good, he's sleeping right now," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good, that's good," Paul replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence followed, awkward and imposing. They were all just looking at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...go to sleep..." George mumbled into the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without hesitation, Ringo crawled in next to him. Paul saw this and hesitantly followed, settling in on the other side of George, relaxing when George made no move to get away. Then, John, to Paul and Ringo's horror, laid directly on top of George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get off!" George hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I need a nap too," John hummed. "Just think of me as a blanket made out of meat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George groaned, and John picked him up and flipped around so that George was on top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better, princess?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George flushed as the other three stared at him expectantly. He nodded, then settled onto John, looking very uneasy. But eventually, his breathing stilled, his face calmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the rest of them shared glances, reassured that it was going to be alright. They all looked like they had been through hell and back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you two…?” Ringo whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re alright,” John said. “Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded but didn’t speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George moaned. “Just be quiet...” he muttered, slowly going limp in John’s grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, Georgie!” John cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night,” said Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Paul whispered: “Goodnight.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Trepidation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ringo dreamed of butterflies, soaring through a meadow. It was a beautiful sight, but when he remembered there were no butterflies underwater, he woke up. There, his eyes lazily scanned the room. Next to him was John, snoring heavily, splayed out all over. Paul was his other side, laying down, arms outstretched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And George was absent from the picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo jolted with fear and anxiety. He didn't want to wake up the others, but his irrational mind won out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John," he whispered, nudging the shark. "Wake up!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John shifted, then turned over so his back was facing Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John!" Ringo hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...piss off," John grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's George?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John froze, then flipped over so he could make eye contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's an adult, he can do what he wants," John said after a moment, still groggy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's not really in any condition to be going anywhere—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," John interrupted. "He probably just went out to piss. Now go back to sleep."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo huffed but didn't lay back down. John was simply taking the path of least resistance, the lazy bastard. Paul was too sick, both mentally and physically, to do anything, so it was up to Ringo to figure out what had happened. He slid outside and looked around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the early hours of dawn, the sea still dark, but not pitch. It felt like Ringo was getting less sleep these days and waking up earlier and earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took notice of the cart John had been working on, looking less finished than it had yesterday. The garden was demolished entirely too, the flowers scattered about, drifting away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Ringo's mind went back to the leis they had all worn. He hadn't seen Paul's in a while, nor John's. George still had his, but it was stashed in the cavern alongside the various human artifacts that they hadn't been able to sell. Ringo's was there too, and as much as he would have loved to wear it, he couldn't. He would have looked like a clown in the colorful necklace when everyone else was so down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just felt rotten. The garden, the necklaces, the simple things he had worked on and accomplished here were already gone. As wrong as it was to say, he had grown comfortable here. The dead grey wastes were his home in a sense, and he feared that when they moved, things might never be the same again. What if Paul never got better? What if John became hardened again? What if George never recovers, or his wound gets infected, or some giant sea monster eats them as they're moving?</span>
</p><p><em><span>Oh God, </span></em><span>Ringo thought, </span><em><span>I'm</span></em> <em><span>anxious. </span></em><span>The thought of going South, into the unknown, terrified him. </span></p><p>
  <span>That, coupled with every passing second where he didn't see George, sent him into a panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, dumbass, if George's disappearance is making you nervous, go and find the fucker, eh?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had no idea where the voice came from, even if it was inside his brain. But it made a good point. He moved past the cart and garden and checked the houses one by one. One of them was destroyed, most likely by John. The rest were still as depressingly empty as the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thoughts of a village popped into his head. Soon, he was going to meet new people, and as long as they were like Alex and not the goblin shark, then he was in good hands. At least, he assumed they would try to meet up with John and George's old friends. Was Cyn nice? Stu? He tried to imagine what they looked like. Stu carved the statue, so that meant he was either an artist or a mason, maybe both. An image of a crab using his multiple legs and claws to chisel away at stone came to mind. A crab-merman, now that was an intriguing idea! At the very least, it made his academic heart sing. To see all kinds of wondrous new species was a dream come true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what if the new creatures were deadly? Here in the wastes, Bobbit worms were bigger than busses and ate people. Who knows what other horrors were awaiting them? Warmer waters meant more creatures, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Ringo had built up any goodwill, it was dashed in that instant. The truth was, he had no clue what was going to happen. He couldn't even say for certain that they were leaving. There could be any number of complications at every turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up! Stop worrying about what hasn't even happened yet and find George now!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. He resumed his search, leaving the last abandoned house. If George wasn't here, then he was at the gardens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the gardens were so far away, even for Ringo. An injured George wouldn't be able to make the trip comfortably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd just go and check in on George and then head back. It wasn't a big deal. There's no crisis here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he set out. It was a lonely trip, but it gave Ringo time to think. It was getting colder, the seasons changing. He had arrived during Summer, so it must have been Autumn now, or at least very close. He could feel it in the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the years and seasons so short, life moved quickly. It forced them to live day-to-day, no time for waiting, enjoying oneself. It was different from living on Earth, making long-term plans, building up your life. Perhaps it was the effect of this world, being able to adapt to it so quickly. Maybe that's why moving was so terrifying. In a fast-paced, dangerous ocean, moving meant leaving shelter and safety, and it was hard to see the long-term benefits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there were benefits. Warmer waters, more people, food. It would save their minds from insanity, purify their souls in a sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Ringo began to make a plan. They would gather up lots of food and set out, hunting along the way. They would take shifts sleeping. When they'd get to the others, they'd build a house and make friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have anything to fear. He'd made it this far already, and as long as he wasn't alone, he could do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Running over the details in his head, the possible scenarios and how to address them, Ringo failed to notice he had arrived. The gardens loomed in front of him, but they seemed different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The numerous stalks still reached upwards, but most of them had limply fallen to the seafloor, making a dense, sinewy blanket. It was as if the plants had begun to hibernate. It was remarkable how much different the gardens had become. As he strolled through, he imagined flowering stalks in the spring. This world already had precedent for underwater flowers, so surely some plants would flower, and if they could bear fruit, then even better. Paul would appreciate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should learn to cook, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. That would help Paul, and George would like it too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of, where was George? The sparse forest was easy to scan, but George wasn’t up there. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't panic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo told himself, but it was hard to take his advice. Bad things consistently happened when they were split up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A monstrous shark, crooked fangs gleaming in the dark, flashed through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo sunk slightly into the spongey mass of dense seaweed as he crawled across it, searching for George. Something told him that he needed to find him</span>
  <em>
    <span> now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he spotted a body sprawled out in the shade, his heart froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was George. And he wasn't moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>George!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo choked out, almost a sob. His mind was running away from him faster than he could keep up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, no, no…!" he begged, shaking George's body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please wake up!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mmnn..." George groaned, voice tired and weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, are you alright?!" Ringo shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I was, until you woke me up," George grumbled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was taking a nap," George explained. Looking at him, the only evidence of injury or pain was the look of annoyance on George's face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Christ… I'm sorry," Ringo hastily said. "I saw you, and you weren't moving, and I assumed—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright," muttered George before letting out a giant yawn. " 's just a kip."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry for waking you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine… did you come here for something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was looking for you, actually."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," George said. "Why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know..." Ringo demurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, the last time you went off on your own, you kinda…" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon hearing Ringo trail off, George's expression soured. " 'M not useless," he huffed, but his voice had dropped in volume.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No one said you weren't—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, but you all look at me like I'm…" George paused, unfolding his arm. "Nevermind. Let's go back."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But your nap—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, someone fuckin' ruined it for me," he spat as he began to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had never seen George so bitter before, but it was only natural. No one can lose a whole limb and stay the same. Not even George, as much as he wanted to hope otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was already going off, and Ringo had to keep up. As George swam, his body veered off slightly to the side, until he corrected himself, only to go off course again and repeat the process. Ringo hadn't thought about it, but George had lost a good chunk of mass on his left side. With this impairment, he was a lot slower. Ringo had to hold back so that he didn't go ahead of George. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He needs some space,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he muttered to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't try to push him in any way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Geo," Ringo said, trying to remedy the situation, but he only felt worse when George stayed silent. "Geo, please," he begged, placing a hand on his shoulder, but George whipped around and caught it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don't touch me!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he growled, fangs bared, claws digging into Ringo's hand. Then, George let go and stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving Ringo to stare at the five red marks left on his wrist in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to call again, but Ringo's voice couldn't muster up anything louder than a squeak. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>stung.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, he resigned himself to loosely following George, trying not to take what had transpired personally, and failing spectacularly.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>"What do you think?" John asked, observing for Paul's reaction. The man was usually so silent that John had to rely on facial expressions to parse his meaning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine," Paul replied, staring at the cart they had just finished. "Will it always smell this bad?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, the fish?" John asked, looking at the cart. He had gone hunting earlier and loaded up the cart with a ton of freshly killed fish. John was a big guy, so the haphazardly stacked pile would only be enough to sate him for a few days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The blood," Paul clarified. "I can't stand the stench."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll let it sit out for a bit," John said. "It's okay; the scent of blood makes me go mad too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not that—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then what is it?" John snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul bit his tongue. It wasn’t that he found the scent disgusting, but the opposite. It was entrancing, hypnotizing. The waters around the slaughtered fish smelled sweet and tangy, tantalizing. He despised himself for enjoying the odor so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, they're back," John suddenly announced, looking out away from the cavern. Paul glanced to see Ringo and George, attached at the hip— No. They were usually so close that Paul almost didn't give it a second thought, but the two of them were very spread out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, you two! We're ready to leave now!" John boomed, oblivious to their distance. But as they drew closer, John shifted, his posture changing from confident to concerned. It only grew worse as George went past, everyone taking note of his swimming and how awry it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the very least, they all had the brains to keep their mouths shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As George disappeared into the cavern, Paul and John turned their attention towards Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The hell's goin' on?" John hissed, jerking a thumb at the cavern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… he's… just give him some space. I'll talk to him," Ringo stuttered out before trailing after George. John wanted to talk about the cart, gathering food, the massive trip they were about to undertake, and he didn't get to say a lick of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was odd to see Ringo and George having a spat. That was a John thing, starting fights, not Ringo’s. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, John caught sight of Paul slowly drifting towards the cavern, but instead of entering it, he deliberately hid right outside the entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was eavesdropping, he realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, John crept over next to him. Even if they had no idea how to help, they were still too curious to know what had happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first voice they heard was Ringo's hesitant drawl, nervously calling, </span>
  <em>
    <span>"George?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I don't want to move,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> George said in reply, causing John and Paul to clench up. They had spent all this time preparing, surely this was a joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You don't mean that… right?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ringo asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"You've wanted to move ever since I arrived—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah, well, I changed my mind!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I don't want to go!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>One of them took a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Alright. If that's what you want, but can you at least tell me why?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"...it's dangerous,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> he muttered, voice unconvincing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's dangerous here too, though,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ringo said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"What's the real reason?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A long silence followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's stupid,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> warned George.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Not if it's making you this upset,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ringo calmly replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's just— It's gonna be different,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> he muttered after a long moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Everything, y'know? I haven't talked to a regular person in so long."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You've talked to me!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah, but… you're not like anyone else…"</span>
  </em>
  <span> George trailed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"It's been twelve years since I've seen them. It's gonna be awkward,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"They'll look at me and see this giant hole, and they're either gonna throw a fuckin'—"</span>
  </em>
  <span> his voice had chocked up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>"—pity party or they're gonna say I'm a burden and throw me out like the useless piece of garbage I am—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't get to finish, for Ringo had forcefully grabbed him; John able to hear the sound of skin hitting skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You aren't useless,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"You're not a burden. And if your so-called friends do that to you, you know what will happen?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn't reply for a moment, slightly shocked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"John'll fuck them up,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ringo said, causing the man in question to let out a quiet snort. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"And then we'll leave and find someplace better, alright?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Okay,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> George whispered back. That should have been it. With George calmed down, there was no need to listen in anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, they stayed, a sobering mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You know I love you, right?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"R-right…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John's heart sank at the shaky reply. He thought it was because of how weak George sounded at that moment, but… </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's okay to ask for help. It doesn't make you a burden,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ringo said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"And you're a lot more than a missing arm to me. I want to help you."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George whispered, voice broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They grew silent, shuffling about in the cavern, no doubt cuddling as they do every night. Then, there was a sound, soft and wet, a gentle kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John felt sick to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So did Paul. Seeing them so close, it made it hard to believe that George had room in his heart for Paul. After what happened on Earth, outright impossible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul sighed. It is what it is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, Paul," John whispered. "Let's go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go where?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Away. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We don’t have a place here." It was evident that George and Ringo were… </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>for each other. They helped each other and cared with all their being. John and Paul could have had something like that, that closeness, but they blew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They really are in love, aren't they?" John asked the sky after they were a decent distance away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul grunted, his hand reaching to stroke his ring finger. John vaguely recalled him having a golden ring there before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When was the last time he ever talked to George? Or was reassured when he felt down? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul," he suddenly said. "Let's go huntin'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul shook his head. Right, this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's for food, for Ringo and </span>
  <em>
    <span>George,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John said, cringing at how fragile his voice sounded. "I can do the killin', and we can find somethin' for you to eat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...alright," Paul said, following after John. The simple action helped lessen the stress John felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I haven't talked to a regular person in so long.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A pang of terrible guilt pierced John. Nevermind George, everyone was going to freak out when they saw him. John knew he wasn’t the same person as when they left, but to what extent, he didn't know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, why was he so emotional? It wasn't like him to get nervous like this. He wasn't supposed to feel this way, get so attached—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuckin' hell," he breathed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John?" Paul asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to go back, so bad, even if Ringo told him to give George space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to bash the ground until his fists were bloody.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" Paul shouted. He was holding John's hand. When had he...?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Piss off," John groaned. His teeth were </span>
  <em>
    <span>aching, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he needed something to chew on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul very obviously had no idea what to say, and thus stayed silent, an action John appreciated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you… want to lay down?" Paul asked, an imitation of Ringo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to kill something," John spat back. "I'm fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul stared back, his brain slowly realizing that John was an aggressive shark mere seconds from snapping. Yet, he held his ground, still unknowingly holding his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," Paul said. "Let's go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John blinked in confusion, and Paul snapped his tail, darting through the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go!" Paul shouted, flicking his tail. It was an attempt to pacify John, to take that violent energy and wear it out by sprinting across the open waters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John grinned. "Let's," he said, already darting out towards Paul.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Warm Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ringo woke up to many sensations and sights: the cool of the water, the bundle of dying seaweed against his skin, the minuscule speckles of color in the rocks, and the gorgeous seadragon curled up in his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Morning, love," Ringo hummed. At his words, George burrowed more into Ringo, no space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of greeting with words, George gently kissed Ringo on the lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Morning..." he yawned, groggy with sleep but still in a light mood. Ringo smiled; he didn't feel any need to get up just yet. The rest of the day could wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, they did have to get up. Ringo's stomach had growled, reminding him of Paul's plight, and then he thought about how George's appetite had yet to return, and the cozy mood had evaporated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna get something to eat," Ringo said. "You wanna come?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, but not for the promise of breakfast. The half-eaten scraps of food that littered the floor could attest to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shuffled out, Ringo leading George out by the hand to steady him. The chilly blast of the open sea hit them harder than they expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are we gonna move soon?" asked George, casting a glance at the cart loaded with raw fish. " 'Cause it's Autumn now, and if we wait any longer, it'll be too cold."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo blinked. George's concerns about the temperature were valid, but when did Ringo become the decision-maker?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well… I'm ready to go, but I'm not sure about Paul," he said. "Are you gonna be okay, though?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean," George began, "it's not like I can regrow it. It's as healed as it'll ever be."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wasn't talking about the arm," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sighed. "I… I'm nervous, but I'm okay," he said. "I've got you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dumb grin grew on Ringo's face as his heart did somersaults. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that just made his day. He pulled George forward and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was two out of four now. John had spent most of his time preparing for the trip, so he was positive towards moving, so that meant he just needed to get Paul on board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Paul was nowhere in sight and Ringo was still hungry, so he worked on scavenging for crabs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The crabs are a lot more spiny around here," Ringo muttered. "But they taste good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Those are poisonous."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo looked at the crab in his hands, with its purple-tipped bristly hide. He had already taken a bite out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You sure?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes!" George shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, but, like, are you sure?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...oh, fuck," Ringo muttered. He had messed up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>"George, I'm so sorry," he began, "but I think I've been feeding you poisonous crabs this whole time." He wasn't going to deny anything and own his blunder. That was why George wasn't recovering! It's because Ringo was accidentally </span>
  <em>
    <span>murdering him!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn't noticed he was hyperventilating until George held him and gave him a firm squeeze. (At least as firm as a one-armed hug can get.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright; I can handle a little toxin."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>not supposed to! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jesus, George, I'm so sorry!" He was supposed to be a biologist! How did he not notice?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet more evidence that his human self was eroding. He had eaten without discrimination, subconsciously aware that his body could produce and consume poison. But George was not him; George was small and frail and weak—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo, really—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll go to the gardens and find something for you—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo!" George yelled. "You can't! All the crabs are buried deep in the rocks 'cause of the cold."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, what are you gonna eat, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's… why we have to move," George said. "Usually we spend all Summer gathering food for Winter, but this year..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gears in Ringo's head whirled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, Oh."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every moment they had spent on frivolities like gardening or reading was a moment where they didn't gather food. Paul had been sustaining himself mainly on the canned goods George had looted, most of which was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This whole time, they had been leeching off of John and George's resources, the most important one being time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I never realized," Ringo muttered. Back on Earth, food shortages were an oddity. There were stores and restaurants all about to feed you. There were no grocers out here, no markets nor diners. They had squandered the Summer adapting to a dangerous new world and now had no food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If we're gonna do this, we haveta do it now," George said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo snapped out of his reverie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right, right, 'course. I'll find Paul," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What should I do?" George quietly asked, causing Ringo to pause. If Paul saw George, he'd probably get crushed with guilt and be impossible to talk to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stay here, in case John comes by," Ringo decided. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said when he noticed the frown on George's face. With a quick peck on his cheek, Ringo darted off, George giving a small wave of farewell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Ringo was out in the open waters, alone with his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since arriving, he's had too much on his mind. The forefront was the fact that he felt like a clown. Without meaning to, Ringo had royally fucked up, and the only way to fix it was to convince Paul to move, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What if they didn't move? Then they would have been stuck inside the cavern with no food and slowly freezing to death. He could see John running out to get something to eat and getting devoured. Or, even worse, John doesn't leave but instead loses it. A mad shark trapped in a tiny cave with three fish; there was only one way that would end, and the mere glimpse of a shark ripping his friends to bits was terrifying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to convince Paul to come with or die trying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But to his surprise, he found Paul sprinting back and forth through the water like a jet. It was a far cry from the catatonic man Ringo had seen in the past week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul!" Ringo cried. "I need to talk to you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn't stop at Ringo's call, but instead when the younger man was in view. He had been going at it for a while now and was breathing heavily once he finally stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were going fast there," Ringo noted, marveling at that speed. Even when he was far from peak condition, Paul was easily the fastest of them all. It was good to see Paul out and about, although Ringo could now count Paul's pale ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Paul muttered. "I dunno, felt good to. Felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's good," Ringo said, "but we got a problem. We need to move now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul said nothing, still panting, but his eyes were trained on Ringo, imploring him to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's Autumn right now, and there's no food for George to eat, so we need to go, or he'll starve come Winter."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Paul's eyes narrowed, Ringo feared the worst, but then Paul slowly blinked and spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo gaped at him, then started to laugh. He fully expected Paul to try to give up his rations for George or try to stay behind. It was remarkable how the most common and simplistic answer caught him off-guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright!" Ringo cheered. "We just need John, and then we can get going!" Without another word, he turned to leave, beckoning Paul to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is George back there?" Paul hesitantly asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Ringo called back. "Waiting for John."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed and fell in line behind Ringo. Something was weighing very heavily on his mind, and Ringo could only guess it had to do with George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they got back to the cavern, George was lounging about on the rocks before catching sight of Ringo and jolting up. His tail was waving, thumping against the ground rhythmically.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's like an oversized puppy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought to himself, snickering. He bounded over to George, and held his arms out—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, excuse me," Paul interrupted, "but I was hoping I could talk to George." Every word in that sentence was quieter than the last, resulting in the final word being a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George glanced at Ringo, unsure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure..." Ringo trailed. "I'll, um, see you then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left, but not before casting one last longing look at George. Hopefully, things would be fine, but Ringo didn't want to eavesdrop. It was rude, and if Paul found out, that'd be the end of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he left, and as he did, Paul began to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"...I want to apologize," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"I realize I haven't done that yet."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was glad to hear those words but didn't linger around to listen to the rest of it. The only persons capable of mending George and Paul's relationship was, well, George and Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all worked out in his favor because there was something Ringo wanted to do for a while: shave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fish didn't naturally grow hair, but Ringo did. He had a rather unflattering layer of fuzz that was long enough to be noticeable, but not enough to look intentional. If he was going to meet new people, he had to look at least presentable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went into one of the empty caves, one where he recalled seeing tools. Luckily, his memory proved accurate as there was a shard of shell laying there, its edge chipped. It was a bit big to be a razor, more suited to be used as a cleaver if anything, but it'd get the job done. Slowly, he took the razor-shell and brought it to his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard without a mirror, but Ringo felt like he was making good progress, moving from his right cheek down to his jaw and under to his neck. It was miraculous how the shell wasn't dull, but it still took a great deal of concentration and time. His hair, which was stiffer and more robust than a human's, took forever to slice off, which was more of a blessing in disguise, for he still had to wait for Paul and George to finish talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing Ringo had forgotten underwater is that you can't hear people approach with the sound of their footsteps. All he could hear was the shell scraping across his skin, unaware that Paul was behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," he called, causing Ringo to jolt and the shell to slip out of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Christ, you scared me," Ringo said, catching his breath. "What's up?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing, just- you missed a spot," Paul said, gesturing towards Ringo's face. "Anyway, John's back. Do you… do you need help?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd appreciate it," Ringo said, handing off the shell to Paul so he could shave it off. "It feels like you're my Mum, helping me shave for the first time," he hummed as Paul held his jaw tenderly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have to be useful in some regard," Paul muttered. "Now, stop talking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo snorted but let Paul finish his work. He slid his hand over his now clean-shaven face and said, "Thanks, mate."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problem," Paul muttered. The man had become extremely soft-spoken these last couple of days. "And… thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks for what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For letting me stay, for still wanting to keep me around."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The idea of leaving you never crossed my mind," Ringo admitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was always hard to tell if Paul was smiling due to that scraggly beard, but Ringo liked to assume the man's lips tugged upwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should head over to John," Paul said, examining the shell in his hands. "He's rather impatient."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," Ringo hummed. It was apparent that Paul wanted to be left alone, but that was fine. He had spent the bulk of his day outside and was finally talking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo felt good. Paul was improving, as was George, and they were about to move. A wave of confidence overcame him, the feeling that </span>
  <em>
    <span>for once, </span>
  </em>
  <span>things were looking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, he greeted John and George with a dumb grin on his face. George was sprawled out in the remains of the garden and waved to greet Ringo. John was loading up the cart with the last of their food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're ready to go," John grumbled, crossing his arms. "So wh—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George hissed. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at his mouth.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As John spoke, Ringo stared at his disturbing serrated teeth. He never liked looking at them for long, so he wondered why George was so antsy to point them out—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus, fuck," Ringo blurted. "What happened to your tooth?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John's tongue flicked over the hole where one of his fangs had fallen out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Nothing happened," John hastily muttered. "Dunno, fell out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did something attack you?" Ringo asked, voice laced with fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! No, no one did this to me," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then what…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… tripped," he admitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You tripped?" George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How many times do you want me to say it? Yeah, I tripped," John barked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>John Lennon,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George cooed. "The only guy in the world who can trip underwater."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh sod off," John grumbled, burying his face in his hand out of sheer embarrassment once George started giggling at his expense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How'd you manage that?" Ringo had to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sayin'!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on…!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fine! Alright? I was racin' with Paul, and he was winnin', so I tried to trip him up, and I missed. You happy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that point, Ringo had joined George in laughter. The idea of John, big intimidating John, careening into the rocks because of a competitive streak was hilarious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, please shut up," John moaned, face red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"At least it'll grow back, you crybaby," George sneered. Indeed, John seemed more upset about the light teasing than the missing tooth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever. Where's Paul, anyway?" John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trying to change the subject?" George smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, piss off!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing them together, laughing, made Ringo's heart soar. For once, they were just regular people joking about. With John trying so hard to look cool and tough and George teasing him for it, you’d have never anticipated them hurting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, whoa," George suddenly muttered, awestruck. "Paul?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo whipped around, scanning the rocks. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, whoa,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>was not a common reaction to seeing Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Ringo didn't recognize the man there, wondering who the strange silver fish was, but then he saw those familiar drooping eyes and realized it was, in fact, Paul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His entire beard was shaven off, revealing a rather pleasant face. Ringo had never seen Paul's face in full before, never noticed those plump lips, or how petite his nose was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I never knew you were that handsome," George muttered, and it occurred to Ringo that he was thinking the same thing. All the while, Paul just stood there, sputtering, flustered. His face was slightly feminine, Ringo observed. Without the dark beard obscuring everything, Paul looked a lot more open, friendlier. He also looked a lot less bloated than he did before. The shell of a naval captain and the unsure marlin before him were the same person, and it took a moment for Ringo to wrap his head around that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, now that we're all here, let's get goin' then," John said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right now?" Paul asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're all loaded up, might as well make the most of the day," John replied. "You should check the cavern for anything you need, 'cause I'm not gonna double back or anythin' like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, yeah, 'course," Ringo muttered, leaving for one final check with George trailing behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was weird to think that this would be the last time he went into the cavern. This place had become his home, and although he had his fair share of unpleasant memories here, he felt nostalgic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They moved to the backroom, the one that used to be brimming with human goods. All that remained were a few moldy jars and scraps of metal. The only relic of value were the golden rings adorning Ringo's fingers. That, and the two leis they made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George slowly took the orange one, it slightly wilted, and draped it around his neck. Then, he handed off the elaborate one he had made to Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's… it's been daft, yeah?" George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Ringo hummed. "Fucking insane, actually."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George let out a sharp exhale from his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, let's get goin', then. Don't want to keep them waitin'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"After you."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Ninety-nine bottles of beer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So school started and I also got a new puppy, so all of my free time just evaporated. I'll try to stay uploading at a decent pace, but there's a good chance there will be a slowdown. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the next chapter!</p><p>I also changed the summary so that it's more interesting and informative.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The waves were gently lapping, the waters calm and open. The usual chill of Autumn was absent that morning, as was any other fauna. Even the plants were still, most of them preparing for Winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was time to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if Ringo admitted it in his head, it still felt impossible, like a distant daydream. John was tying the cart to his torso to drag it easier, Paul was double-checking their provisions, yet Ringo couldn't wrap his head around it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were leaving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," George whispered, "are you alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me? Uh, yeah, just… It's hard to believe," Ringo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, you two! Get your arses over here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we're going!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John shouted before turning, already moving ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Slow down!" Ringo called. "Where are we even moving? Do you even know the way?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry, I have a plan," John tried to reassure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>highly </span>
  </em>
  <span>doubt that," George muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everyone, just hang on!" Ringo shouted, trying to stop John from continuously swimming away. "We should check the map and figure things out before we go swimming around blindly!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The map's useless without a compass," Paul chimed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo," John said, "there are these little things called </span>
  <em>
    <span>currents </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>stars. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trust me when I say I know where we're goin'." He kept swimming ahead, unfazed by Ringo's concerns. Then again, Ringo had never heard of a timid or hesitant shark. George had fallen in-line behind him, and Paul trailed from a distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just— this was it. No turning back anymore. With each passing second, the cavern and those familiar rocky slopes grew more and more distant, fainter and greyer, until they vanished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was strange, no large fanfare or farewell, no words of sentiment. Yet for how odd it was, Ringo felt no urge to say anything. After all, the most memorable part of the wastes was the people he met and the friends he made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they moved, they fell into a line, with John at the front. He was the strongest, and the burden of carrying their rations did nothing to slow him down. Following him was Paul, who very much wanted to dart off but held back for the sake of the group. After him was Ringo himself, who was a mediocre swimmer, a fact he was well aware of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That left George, lagging and struggling to swim straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn't even been swimming for fifteen minutes when John halted, snapping his head behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This ain't gonna work," he said. "Geo, is that the fastest you can go?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn't want to look and regretted it when he did so. George was a good distance behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>how fast I can go," George huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, but that was before you lost an arm," John commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George seemed to visibly flinch at the comment, trying to straighten out his body as his hand gravitated towards his empty shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Give me your hand," John ordered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't want—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't want my help</span>
  <em>
    <span>?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John asked. "That's fine, but I also don't want to starve this Winter because you were a stubborn git who thinks the pace of a slug is good time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let's go,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he urged, and Ringo watched as George drifted forwards, only for John to snatch his hand and keep moving onwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the grand voyage. The big move. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He sighed. This was going to be a long trip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With George in the front, that meant Ringo was now the slowest, having to hustle to keep up. It was tiring, but Ringo didn't complain, not when George looked outright miserable being pulled along by John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was, at the very least, concerned, but not enough to speak up. John was in a mood, as he usually was, and trying to fight with him now would make the rest of their journey a drag. Ringo didn't know how many days he could last like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...he realized he didn't even know how long the trip was going to take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How long are we gonna be moving?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Should be about a week, all things considered," John replied. "Why? Got something planned?" he asked with a sneer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo sighed. Best to keep silent and stay moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to be honest; this wasn't how he envisioned the move to go. The dead silence, the tense atmosphere, it was far from ideal. That wasn't even mentioning that the scenery was bleak. Ringo had anticipated seeing a variety of environments and creatures, but everything was grey and lumpy, like a bowl of oatmeal. That's what the whole trip was at this point, like some mushy hospital food that you know tastes bad but you have to eat or else. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's a small sacrifice for something greater, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A bad week is infinitely better than a lonely life on the rocks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, he trudged on, scanning the fields of sand for anything of interest. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing. Yay! Woohoo! God, he needed a drink or something—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo suddenly got an idea. You (sadly) couldn't drink underwater, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer— you take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!" he began to sing. "Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-eight bottles of beer—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doin'?" John snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a song," Ringo explained. "You start with ninety-nine beers and then you sing until you hit zero."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John, Paul, and George all shared looks. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why?’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the question on all of their minds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo assumed they all thought it was unnecessary, loud, and obnoxious. Under their judgemental staring, he felt like a fool for even suggesting the notion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's 'abotalabeer'?" George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A </span>
  <em>
    <span>bottle </span>
  </em>
  <span>of beer," Paul emphasized. "It's a human drink."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My question is why won't you two shut up about humans," John grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You two sold beer to Alex, y'know," Ringo muttered. "You made a living off of human paraphernalia, so can you just shut it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George and Paul shared uneasy glances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," John huffed. "Sing your song then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will," Ringo declared, pleased at John's acceptance. With a deep breath, he continued to belt out, starting back at ninety-nine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't until he was at ninety-two bottles of beer before someone finally joined, George singing along. He had no concept of what beer was or why you would pass it around, but he was more in it because Ringo was all alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After George began to sing, Paul joined in the next verse. His voice was shockingly melodious, and it would have been pleasant to listen to if Ringo and George weren't screaming over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the eighty-fifth bottle of beer, John came in with falsetto, causing Ringo to burst out laughing, forgetting what number he was on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he really would just forget in between the verses. Subtracting one was too much for his octopus brain. Then again, there was no need for Ringo to know any arithmetic more complicated than that. Mr. Kibblewhite was wrong when he said algebra had many applications in the real world. It wasn't going to save him from a shark any time soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sauntered along, singing the tune when Ringo screeched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit, mate, what the hell?!" John snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look!" Ringo shouted. He could not contain his joy, every tentacle of his was curling up and unfurling, his rings starting to glow. He had seen a fish in the distance, a fish with a distinctive shape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's so special about that?" Paul asked, to which Ringo aggressively grabbed his face and locked their eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's an </span>
  <em>
    <span>ichthyosaur!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo said. "It lived in the age of dinosaurs!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul cast a glance at the distant creature, with its long snout, large fins, and blubbery hide. He didn't seem nearly as impressed as Ringo was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, Paul! It's not every day you see one! Or every </span>
  <em>
    <span>era. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This is huge!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it is," John snarled. "And if you keep screamin', he's gonna come here and eat us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That shut Ringo up, but he couldn't help but marvel at the distant beast. That was a prehistoric creature right there. No one's ever seen one before and Ringo got to be the first! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had to be other ancient creatures around. Plesiosaurs? Megalodons? What about the mythological Leviathan? There were islands to the South— the Lacus Archipelago. Were there Tyrannosauruses running amok there? Where there dinosaur people? Ringo's head was abuzz with questions and mysteries, dying to know more about the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinosaurs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dinosaurs! </span>
  </em>
  <span>God, he couldn't believe his eyes! He felt like a kid again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I always liked the little sci-fi comics and stories," Ringo admitted, mainly to Paul. "I never realized I was living in one!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George softly giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were all gleefully singing together, Ringo thought that maybe the day wouldn't be so bad. But seeing that ichthyosaur? Oh, he'd swallow two-hundred needles for that and still be happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What bottle of beer were we on?" George wondered after they got some more distance between them and the reptile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Seventy… three, I think?" Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ugh," John moaned. "Please pick a different song. I beg of yeh." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhhhh… Paul? You wouldn't happen to know any sea shanties, would you?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not really, no," came Paul's disappointing reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's no way </span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain McCartney </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn't know at least one!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do," Paul said, "but I'm tired of singing. My throat's dry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're underwater," Ringo said, deadpan. Paul just waved his hand through the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've got a few songs," John mentioned. "Made them up in me head."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should sing the one about the walruses," George said, to which John nodded, took a deep breath—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nevermind, I don't want to sing at all," he let out instead. Ringo had to laugh; John could fight monsters with no issue but singing in front of a group? Oh no, that was too much!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But still, normally on road-trips, you'd have some music going, some pleasant conversation, and the hours would melt away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alrighty! Seventy-three bottles of beer on the wall—" Ringo immediately began to shout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No!" Paul and John yelled, quickly halting Ringo. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>but </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, then sing!" Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," John grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then didn't say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, John," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I don't like the way my voice sounds," John muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who cares? Just sing, man," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John cast a glance behind him, looking at the three people around him. He steeled himself, gathered his courage, and began:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There are places I'll remember</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All my life, though some have changed</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some forever, not for better</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some have gone and some remain</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With each line, his voice grew a little stronger, until it was no longer a whisper. Ringo was amazed; John's voice had this whine to it that made him sound so vulnerable. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All these places had their moments</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With lovers and friends, I still can recall</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some are dead and some are living</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In my life, I've loved them all</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped, self-consciousness consuming him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So yeah, that's it," he muttered. "There you go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was amazing," Ringo said, the truth. "You came up with that on your own?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah," John said, voice unusually quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow," was all Ringo had to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's really lovely," Paul added. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"T-thanks," John mumbled out. He wasn't used to praise and encouragement and it was painfully obvious. "Me Mum, she was really into music, taught me to play."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She must have been a great teacher," Ringo mused. "You've got talent."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- yeah, she was great. We used to have this </span>
  <em>
    <span>furte </span>
  </em>
  <span>and we'd spend the night playing songs on it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wondered what a </span>
  <em>
    <span>furte </span>
  </em>
  <span>was but then saw the distinctive strumming motion John made with his open hand. It must have been similar to a guitar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wanted to learn to play too," George muttered, "but it broke before I could."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," John said, "we can make a new one, and you can learn then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George's face lit up for a brief moment, before falling. </span>
  <span>"No, John. I can't," he muttered, turning his gaze downward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can still sing," Ringo tried to console, "or play the harmonica. That only uses one hand."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine," George mumbled, his body language stiff and hostile, even if he was still holding John's hand. It screamed ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to stop talking about this,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>a request everyone complied with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before an uncomfortable silence could set in, they caught sight of a crab, scuttling on the seafloor. Crabs were a common sight, but this one was special. </span>
  <span>It was easily twice as tall as John, moving like a mechanical fortress, a miniature coral reef on its back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John exclaimed. With a flick of his tail, he darted towards the crustacean and grabbed onto its back, helping George on in the process. What a clever idea, riding on the crab and conserving energy. Ringo didn't want to admit, but he had grown sore constantly thrusting and crawling with his tentacles. A ride sounded amazing. </span>
  <span>With a little help from Paul, he got on and stretched out. There was a small layer of algae on the crab's back like a carpet of grass. Next to him, George stretched out like a house cat, partially lounging in John's lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't know crabs got this big," Ringo said. "This is fantastic!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye," Paul muttered, laying down. Little crabs were scuttling about on the back of the colossal one, some of them crawling over Paul, making the older man squirm. "They're tickling me," he murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was licking his hand specifically where John was grasping it, while John was lounging back, scratching his gut as he inhaled some fish from the cart. </span>
  <span>It was like a picnic, sans the blanket. That, and the fact that the scenery around them whipped past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're lucky this guy's headed in the same direction as us," John explained. "But we'll have to get off when it's night. The Abyss-creatures still dwell here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But they'll be gone once we get far enough, right?" Ringo had to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'Course," John said, and for a moment, everything seemed alright. Without knowing it, Ringo's tentacles had begun to reach out and snatch up the little crabs on Paul's torso.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed. "How're you holding up, Geo?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," George muttered. "Bit tired, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo crawled over to George and wormed himself in right next to him. "Let's take a nap, then," he hummed, his tentacles wrapping around George's tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look at the two lovebirds," John cooed, partially mocking. Ringo smiled to himself at his words. He and George were together, and having it be openly acknowledged made it more grounded. God knows the past couple of days have been chaotic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a small thought was nagging at the back of Ringo's mind, like a small knot getting snagged. He and George were as close as could be, yet there was something more. George had feelings for John back then, and he didn't know if John was trying to rekindle that love. Then again, John spent the entirety of the day holding George's hand, and right now, he was busting open small crabs and handing them to George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Paul, there was something between him and George too. But the extent of that was unknown to Ringo, and honestly? He doubted Paul or George knew either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of him felt mad, almost. George was his, they had kissed, and to know that George felt some attraction towards the others made jealousy pump through his veins. That was a rather selfish way to look at it, but Ringo couldn't help his feelings, only choose not to act on them. A bigger part of him wishes, however, that there was some way to just love everyone. With the way things were now, someone's heart was bound to get broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did relationships get so stressful? It was only marginally better than the crushing weight of loneliness and depression, but still. Ringo watched the scenery pass by, more crabs of epic proportion joining them. It was like a mass migration of crabs, all in different sizes and colors. One of them had a shell decorated with tattoos and carvings. Another had four large pincers resting on its shoulders like a mantle. A small tower of crabs scuttled by, impeccably balanced. Ringo knew certain species of crabs migrated to land to mate on Earth, so these crabs must have been doing something similar, heading to the green islands in the South. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was silly, how vague his understanding of the geography of this world was, but he put his trust in George. And besides, anything was better than the death abyss next-door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With George snoozing peacefully next to him, and John keeping watch over their trajectory, Ringo left himself drift off into a light nap. Not enough to pass out completely, just until it was time to get off. Eventually, sunset arrived, and John had directed them all off the crab, already searching for somewhere to sleep for the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They settled on a small hole dug out in the ground, most likely a den for some other creature but fully abandoned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If something does try to move in here, they'll scurry off," John reassured, gesturing at himself. He shrugged off the cart, which was more like a backpack considering how John carried it, and he sunk into the crevice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a tight fit, and it dawned on them that they were going to be extraordinarily packed in there. </span>
  <span>Good thing they had lots of practice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone should keep watch," Paul said, and Ringo immediately volunteered, glad he had napped earlier. He could easily squeeze into the crevice too, considering his entire lower half lacked bones. </span>
  <span>He stretched, plopped himself down, and prepared for a long night. But before he could, he noticed George drifting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geo? Where are you going?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you hear that?" George asked. "There's this whimpering sound."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo strained his ears, trying to find the sound. He couldn't say he heard anything, but his hearing wasn't the best, either. Using headphones and cranking the volume sky-high was mainly to blame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a sharp cry rang out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The response was automatic. Ringo bolted up, and George called out to John and Paul, the two bigger and stronger fish. It didn't matter that they were all snuggled up; they got up and went to investigate immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Ringo wanted to comment on how cozy they seemed together, but now wasn't the time!)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cries were weak and shrill, almost as if it came from an infant. As they came out, they grew incrementally weaker, causing Ringo's dread to grow. Something was in trouble. </span>
  <span>They darted through the water until they found the minuscule source of the sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A seal pup, trapped under rubble, froze as they approached. Its fur was mottled and dirty, and it seemed to almost retract into itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's it doing here?" John whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Must've gotten lost," Paul mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, we gotta help 'im!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How'd you know it's a 'he'?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that important?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should find his mother!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John gritted out. "If we do that, we'll lose a lot of time </span>
  <em>
    <span>searching an entire ocean. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We're not gonna do that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, we can't just leave him!" George snapped back. "Ringo, you go help him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'Cause you're the friendly one," George said. "John's the mean one—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John snorted at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—Paul's the quiet one, and you're the nice one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's right, you know," Paul muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just because you're right doesn't mean I like it," John huffed, but made no motion to stop Ringo. The pup looked terrified out of its mind, so Ringo made haste lifting the rubble, a smashed piece of dead coral, off of him. He wasn't very strong, but Ringo had ten whole limbs to use. He lifted the heavy mass and watched as the pup dashed out and away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, now that that's done, can we sleep now?" John asked. He looked impatient and annoyed, his tail flicking like he was tapping his imaginary foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turned around, heading back to the crevice when Ringo felt something tap his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, he's following me," Ringo called out. "What do I do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lose 'im," John grumbled. "Unless you want to go through the trouble of feeding 'im."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But it's nighttime, it's dangerous out here," Ringo argued. "If we leave him out here, might as well just kill him now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he hissed. "But he's your problem, not mine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo smiled to himself, watching John vanish into the tiny hole in the ground. If the pup was his problem, well, it was a nice problem to have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"G'night, guys," Ringo said, waving goodbye. Even if they were only a short distance away, all three of his companions waved back, some more passionately than others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, just maybe, it would all work out.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Rocky Chemistry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The visceral, surrealist experience of the night shook Ringo to his core. How could it not? Every night, he had been in the company of someone else, locked in a cold, dark cave. It was simply the way things were. To be out in the open, in the glittering evening, was electrifying. He was all on his own, the others trusting him to keep watch. The last time he was alone in the dark, he got mauled—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to remind himself to unclench his jaw. He wasn't going to think about that, especially not now. Think about George, how good the move will be for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's crippled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Think about Paul, how he’s been healing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's starving.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And John, how he's been more open.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He's broken.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And think about all the good this will bring you!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's not enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With a hiss through his teeth, Ringo curled up. He hated the darkness, it always reminded him of that night, that moment. Everything went wrong because he couldn't control himself, couldn't stop before he became lost. Even though he knew that he could easily turn around and ask any of them to spend the night with him, he wouldn't. He was being infantile; this world was filled with danger. He had to be strong. George lost his arm, Paul was ill, John was completely unpredictable. Someone had to be the source of stability, the paragon of virtue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he still hated the darkness. And the only way to make sure he didn't get swept away was to always be vigilant, to never let his light fade. The black thoughts that plagued him were best buried now before they could fester. Surely, there was—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was broken from his train of thought by a brush against his knuckles. It was the seal pup licking him in his sleep, his eyes shut tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little guy had patterning on his back akin to tiger stripes, his tail fin flicking as though he was in a dream, swimming. Even though he wasn't a merman, just a regular seal, Ringo couldn't help but fawn over the creature. It was easier to concentrate on his soft white fur than the bleak shadowy waters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, if he just focused on what was directly in front of him, his mind wouldn't have to linger on the darkness for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even still, he couldn't do much. The infant seal needed his rest, something Ringo wouldn't interrupt. He'd just have to make it through the night on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There weren't a lot of lights out there. Before, it was as if a wave of bioluminescent creatures were coming to swarm him. Now, he could individually count them all. If he took stock of every individual thing out there, nothing could blindside him. There were some worms, some jellyfish, something Ringo had to guess was an angler fish, and an eel. Watch them, don't let them get close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the very least, he knew how these shifts work. As soon as he felt sleep and exhaustion creeping in, he'd wake up John and rest up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that time never came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with the peacefully snoozing seal next to him and the calm waters, there wasn't a lick of exhaustion on Ringo's face. He couldn't even close his eyes; he had to be watching. Sighing, Ringo folded up more, eyes trained on the distant fish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the urge to sleep ever came over him, it was when the sun had begun to rise, punctuated by a loud yawn and then a sharp hiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, fucker, if you don't get off me </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now—!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" a groggy voice hissed, easily John's. Ringo could hear them all shuffle, popping out of the crevice as if it was a clown car. At all the commotion, the pup woke up as well, bounding over to the source of sound and movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George came over to Ringo, an automatic motion, murmuring, "Morning." He looked knackered as hell but still leaned over to pet the pup, who was nibbling at his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—if you pull that shit again—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—I swear, I wasn't—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you two fighting about?" Ringo asked, confused by the outrage. They just woke up, how could they be fighting already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John pointed an offending finger at Paul. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>He bit me!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he cried out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did not," Paul gritted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then why were your teeth in my arm?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because you put your arm in my mouth!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up...</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo moaned. He felt a headache coming on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey… did you stay up all night?" George asked. "You could've asked one of us to take over—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine," Ringo quickly muttered. "I'm fine. Let's get some breakfast and get going, yeah?" He rose to leave before anyone could object, snapping his fingers to get the pup to follow him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you want to keep him, then feedin' him is on you," John barked, crossing his arms over his chest. For a moment, Ringo caught a glimpse of red bite marks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did Paul really…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo winced again, and the pup tilted his head in confusion at the sharp sound. He really needed a name. But for as hard as he racked his brain, no names came up, aside from 'Max' and 'Rover' which were decent names, albeit rather generic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, he needed food but found nothing in his immediate vicinity. No small crustaceans crawling about, and the ones Ringo did see had those trademark spines on them. Feeding the seal one of them would be paramount to giving a dog chocolate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John, where's the cart? There's nothing to eat out here," Ringo whined. In reply, John let out an overly long sigh, one that dragged out for ages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...</span>
  <em>
    <span>fine,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John groaned. "But only 'cause I like you." He went to the cart, pulled out a large fish akin to an obese tuna, and tossed it towards Ringo. It was smaller than its equivalent from Earth but much plumper. He flexed his hand, clawed fingertips primed to slice—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did Ringo have claws?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He observed his hand closely, how his nails had naturally grown into pointed tips, all of the dark and dense and strong, slightly curved. He had normal nails when he first woke up underwater, so when did they become so warped? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But George had claws too, more like talons with how long they were, as did John. Even Paul had them, although they were much blunter than Ringo's. It wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>per se, just odd how he never noticed it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup whimpered. Right, Ringo had to feed him. He sliced out hunks of the fish's flesh and put them down for the seal to eat. He would have used his mouth to rip apart the fish, but his mouth naturally produced venom, not good for a baby seal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, John explained their trajectory to Paul. Something about currents, it was hard to hear properly. His eyesight blurring may have also contributed. He could tell today was going to be a long day. Much like yesterday, only this time he didn't feel the urge to sing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, they all quickly ate, Paul and George splitting a tin of nuts between them. Once consumed, it was back on the road, John and George holding hands again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo would like to hold someone's hand. All of his tentacles were sore from how long he was crawling yesterday. And as though Paul could read his mind, he outstretched his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You've helped me so much, let me help you," Paul silently whispered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an offer Ringo gladly took, using his free hand to hold the seal close to his chest. He wanted to find the pup's mother, but John was right; they couldn't afford to take a detour. He wondered if the pup could live healthily in the South. It would be warmer, perhaps too warm for his dense fur. Sometimes the seal would try to worm his way out of Ringo's grip, nipping at his arm. Other times he would whimper and whine. Because of it, Ringo transferred his grip on to the seal to his tentacles, wrapping him up and holding him tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kept moving until Ringo finally felt it. An invisible force pulled them all along, a current. John smiled at George, squeezing his hand. Within the current, they didn't have to exert any force to move; the sea pulled them forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See, there's a smart way to travel," John said, proud of his statement. He flicked his tail and the two of them began to dart off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Paul didn't move to follow, letting the current drag them along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," he muttered to Ringo, "can I say something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like you need my permission," Ringo said, causing Paul to avert his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You just seem really out of it today," Paul said. "You can talk to me, please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just tired," Ringo said, "nothing else to it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just— you tried to cheer me up when I was at a low point. I just want to do the same for you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but your low point was a catastrophe. Mine is me being sleepy. It's not the same."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not wrong," Paul hummed, "but if something's bothering you then you're allowed to tell me. I would've gone mad in this world if it weren't for you, so don't discredit yourself like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo froze, his heart suddenly pounding. He was at a loss on what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul… I— I love you," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Paul stood there frozen as the realization of what Ringo blurted out hit him. He had no idea where that thought came from, but in the blinking microseconds, he knew it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you too," Paul said, and then started to swim towards John and George. For some reason, Paul reciprocating his feelings left him more empty, like it wasn't genuine. That he was just agreeing to please Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I mean it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you're dating George," Paul said. "Don't you love him too?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo cast a glance at John and George ahead of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do… but I like you too," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I'm just‐ really out of it. But I do mean it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul said nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you mad at me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, but you should stay with George. He needs someone, and John certainly isn't that someone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I dunno, they seem happy now," Ringo muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did they seem happy when we first arrived? Look, it's okay to like me, but you should focus on supporting him right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what?" Ringo asked, unsure of if he heard Paul right. "What did you say?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should help George," Paul calmly replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, hold on! You're making it sound like I'm only dating George so that he can feel better! That I don't love being with him, that I just do it out of pity!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not what I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>That's exactly what you're implying!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo shrieked. "I said I love you and you think I don't mean it— is that really much much you think of me? That everything I just say is just to please you and George?" Before Paul could reply, even attempt to defend himself for explain, Ringo spat out, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Ringo screamed, shaking violently to break free. He twisted, his body pulling away with a series of yanks, each stronger than the last. He broke free at the final push, looking back at Paul from a distance—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And seeing nothing but a morose face staring back. Paul's mouth was moving, speaking, but Ringo couldn't hear any of it over the pounding in his chest. He felt like his ribs were about to shatter with how hard his chest was thumping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Ringo muttered, his voice muffled on his own ears. All the while, the current continuously pulled them along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was supposed to be strong for everyone, and he was doing a goddamn horrendous job at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul..." he muttered. "Please, just forget what I said," he begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...We'll talk about it later," Paul finally decided, voice clipped and terse. And with that, he faced forwards again and swam on as if nothing had happened. Even with the stiff grip he held Ringo's hand with, he showed no emotion on his face. So when they caught up to John and George the only acknowledgment of their fight was a pat on the back from John and no more. No words, no curiosity at all. They didn't even notice Ringo's shouting or struggle, or if they did, they saw no issue with it. Was that the extent of their relationship? Just a pat on the back?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to go home so badly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet just like his friends, the world continued to turn despite Ringo's troubles. Ahead of them the current deposited into a cave, one with a remarkable pale stone on the interior. It was built into the side of a cliff, which Ringo could only assume was the base of an underwater plateau. Oddly enough, the surroundings of the mouth of the cave were barren. All around them was a lush carpet of seaweed except for where the cave sat. He could see a stark white skeleton lying next to it, some kind of long shark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John barked out orders to go in the cave, but no one responded. George looked uneasy, wondering if they would get lost within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If the current is going </span>
  <em>
    <span>in </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, then it has to come out somewhere," John explained. "It'll be much faster than going around." He looked around, and when he noted the lack of objection, went in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo steeled himself; the idea of going into that murky hole unnerved him. Alas, he couldn't split off from the group and go around on his own, nor convince the others to sacrifice their time. So, in they went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The caves were a series of tunnels, but unlike the tunnels Ringo and Paul arrived in, these were narrow and claustrophobic. No submarines would be able to fit in, nor the giant worms that had almost killed them. The walls were white as if they had been bleached, and it looked as though it had shards of glass embedded into it. Ringo observed that as they got deeper in, the walls began to take on an acidic lime color. Remarkably, they could all see just fine, the cave almost having a radioactive glow to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup whimpered in his grasp. For a good reason too, there was a strange odor in the air, one Ringo couldn't place. It was far from pleasant, but not abhorrent. It was like rotten eggs that had basked in the sun, earthy and pungent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnels began to get narrower as the current got stronger, the pressure building up. It was warmer too, and the smell got stronger and it reminded Ringo of a stew left to simmer for too long. Even the color of the walls had gone from a lime green to an orange tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Smells bad," George muttered. "Worse than you, John."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, can it," John huffed. He turned to the walls and knocked on them, listening to the reverb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo tuned out their conversation, examining the walls. The rock had glass-like structures sticking out in a series of long streaks, getting progressively more transparent. They must have been crystals formed underwater, and that made Ringo pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The caverns suddenly buckled, the walls trembling. The water spiked in heat and bubbled upwards, although no one seemed concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, can you get some of those crystals?" George asked John, marveling at their beauty. They were pretty, not uniform but still pleasing to look at in their asymmetry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, Ringo heard a snapping sound, John punching the crystals off of the wall and George taking the shards and putting them into the cart.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The caverns trembled again in response, and John decided to stop his assault on the walls and resumed their march.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except for Ringo, who kept staring at the walls and their unnatural coloration. Crystals had formed underwater which must have meant that there was some chemical present in the water. Ringo wished that he could speak to...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To whom? He remembered the submarine voyage and the team of scientists that he was a part of, but none of their names came to mind, nor their faces. He knew one of them was a geologist of sorts, he was pulling a blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo shook his head and looked at the vertical streaks of rock where the crystals once sat. The leftover stone was the color of rust and looked like a festering scab. It was hot too, like a pot of boiling water. His skin hurt, he realized, but Ringo just assumed it was exhaustion making him feel off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A burst of bubbles erupted around Ringo as the newly exposed rock began to fizzle, creating an odd foam. It almost sizzled, like some out of control chemistry experiment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, there was a loud boom, and the entire world began to quake, followed by John shouting, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ringo!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had grown too invested in the weird cave to realize that the entire place was erupting, bubbles and gas fizzing about everywhere. Cracks quickly grew on the walls, and the temperature went from boiling water to </span>
  <em>
    <span>scalding oil.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John quickly dashed back and grabbed Ringo before the ceiling could crumble and crush them. And, in the corner of Ringo's eye, he could see George thrashing to get back, only for Paul to grab and yank him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo!" George screamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo reached out towards George but couldn't speak for John had thrown them across the chamber. He could only watch in terror as the orange walls began to combust, violent exploding, ripping the cave apart until it was nothing but rubble. It was like a chain reaction, Ringo could tell that much, but what started it all, he had no clue. Perhaps it was sulfur or phosphorus or mercury reacting when the crystals broke off. What was important was the fact that he was alive, John was safe, and that they were completely cut off from George and Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John— can you hear me?" Paul hollered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A-Aye!" John called back, swimming over to the source of Paul's voice. He reared a fist back to punch through before Ringo screamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't! You'll blow us all up!" he cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have to try!" John shouted back. "They're trapped, I have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The cave leads on past here—" Paul said. "We can keep going on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then go‐ and we- we can meet up outside," Ringo said. "Is George alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, he's not hurt," Paul called back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," John said. "We'll meet up outside, okay? It was a scare, but it's not the end of the world, </span>
  <em>
    <span>alright</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," came Paul's reply. "We'll meet up outside."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then silence followed, Ringo trembling as Paul and George retreated. His skin felt electric, and he was certain that it was because it was dissolving every second he spent in the cave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fuck is wrong with you today?" John spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," Ringo muttered. John let out a heavy exhale and scratched the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, at least the little guy's safe," he said, looking at the seal tangled in Ringo's tentacles. "Let's get going then. Don't want to keep them waiting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right," Ringo whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he turned around to head back, making sure not to touch anything.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The Shark and The Octopus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ringo couldn't help the unease he felt. Even with John leading the way, gross anxiety stretched at his innards. How could it not? Paul </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>George was alright, but he never got to see George, hear his voice. What if it was a lie, something Paul said to comfort Ringo?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't trust Paul's word, not now that he admitted to thinking Ringo's words were fake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop scrunching your face," John huffed. "You look like you're constipated."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Piss off," Ringo spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John simply shrugged, apathetic to his sudden spike in anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you worry ‘bout a thing. Paul and George are tough, yeah? They can get out of this cave just fine on their own. Have a little faith in them," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't trust Paul," Ringo muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought you two were best mates—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't matter! Paul's not strong enough to take care of Geo—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was interrupted by John slapping Ringo's left cheek, hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what the fuck you're on, but you need to stop," John stated. "Paul </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>strong, and George can take care of himself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but—"</span>
</p><p><span>"But nothing! He's not useless, and </span><em><span>you're</span></em><span> his</span> <span>boyfriend," John said, poking Ringo's chest. "You should know this already."</span></p><p>
  <span>Ringo quickly shut up, but if it was from the liberating realization that John was right, or just out of fear of pissing off the giant shark, he didn't know. He simply trailed behind John, making sure to clutch the seal tight. The little thing was trembling, traumatized by the cacophonous explosions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You think of a name, yet?" John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not really, no," came Ringo's reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fair enough."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They passed through the cave, trying to ignore the sparkling, yet volatile crystals. Simply breaking them was enough to send the cavern collapsing, and Ringo then noticed that the cart was missing, smashed in the chaos, no doubt. Very bad for them. Feeding John and the pup was going to get a lot more difficult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they made it out, the cold water feeling frigid compared to the heat within the cave. John pointed upwards and quickly began to ascend. It was harder for Ringo, burdened with both the seal and a weaker body. As much as he loathed to admit, he missed Paul holding his hand and pulling him along. Maybe if he didn't stubbornly take watch all night, he would have been more alert in the cave. He probably would have talked his problems out with Paul instead of fighting with him and they would be out of the tunnel as a big happy family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every now and then, Ringo would turn to the same dark thought, the singular concept of what would happen if he had never joined the expedition. If he didn't, all this heartache and strife would never have occurred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi Ringo!" John hollered. "Stop spacin' out and get swimmin'!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo jolted back to reality. Right. He thrust upwards with all his tentacles before John grabbed him by the forearm and pulled up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too slow, mate,” John huffed as he tugged Ringo behind like a limp rag. Ringo didn’t want to admit it, but he wished he was with George more than ever. He needed a break, for the move to end as swiftly as possible, but that wasn’t doable. Not with the looming winter pressing a time limit against their throats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With John’s aid, he reached the top of the cliff and realized that perhaps going over the sulfuric caves wouldn’t be the simplest task. Before them laid a vast plateau, one with several craters boring into it like the surface of the sponge. Each hole had the same bleached stone and was filled with steaming waters, bubbling ominously like a witch’s cauldron. This time at least they knew that it wasn’t a field of hot springs but of acid. Breaking the monotony of the fields were sparsely growing seaweed, each one ramrod straight and still. John began to swim ahead in large arcs around the volatile waters and Ringo trailed behind him silently. The water stank of rotten fruit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They navigated around the deadly pools, weaving through the water on an invisible course, one dictated by instinct. There was a dilapidated ribcage in one of the pools ahead, easily large enough to belong to a whale. If this place could fell whales, then what did that mean for him and John? Before he could voice his concerns, however, the pup broke free from his grasp. The little thing bounded out and away quickly, tired of the painful temperatures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit!" Ringo hissed, struggling to go after the pup. Luckily, John was far faster and more attentive. He swiveled and grabbed the seal before he could trip into a pit of boiling acid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo," John said in a dangerously calm voice, "is there something you need to say?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo paused, mind unable to function.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was an accident, I didn't mean to—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then stop havin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidents </span>
  </em>
  <span>then," John huffed. "I didn't want to say it, but we wouldn't have split up if you were payin' attention. And now you've almost killed the kid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were the one who wanted to leave him to starve!" Ringo spat back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, but you seem fine just letting 'im get broiled alive," John retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not listening to this," Ringo groaned. "I have to find George."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't fuckin' own him," John growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Since when did you care?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Since your friend got his arm chopped off!" John roared. "You act like you coming 'ere was the best thing that's ever happened to 'im and he's down </span>
  <em>
    <span>a fucking limb!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I had nothing to do with that! And I was the one who nursed him, you cunt! You know what this is? You're jealous. You've spent the last twelve years alone with him and I've only been here a month—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why the fuck would I be jealous of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because he's lost his damn arm and he's happier now than he's ever been— you ever stop to consider </span>
  <em>
    <span>you're </span>
  </em>
  <span>the problem?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You—" John said, the word shooting out of his mouth. "You'd be dead now if it weren't for me," he choked out. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I've saved your life twice now!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you made it worse in every other way!" Ringo spat. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>You're better off—</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could finish, before John could grab him by the throat and squeeze the life out of him, they hear a shriek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The pup," they both muttered to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're not through," John muttered darkly before darting off in search of the seal. Good. Ringo wasn't finished with John either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was treacherous to spread out across the plateau due to the chemical waters but they both crossed without concern. John's rough, leathery hide would protect him while Ringo had to be more cautious, scanning the ground for every minute crack and crevice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hard, his head clogged with thoughts of how he wanted to squeeze into one of the cracks and hide away from John. He could go back into the cave and use his boneless body to get to George and Paul and leave John behind. And then </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be better. John's toxic and a horrendous excuse for a friend. He was only good for his muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was out ahead, looking for the seal, getting cooked alive, and Ringo was standing by, thinking about how to leave him. This wasn't— he wasn't like this. What would he do? Come back and say John's gone? And watch as George and Paul mourn their supposed loss? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When did he ever become so selfish?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all his anger at John, he knew he couldn't hold on to it for long. He had already forgotten what had triggered him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," he whispered, then scrambled to catch up to John, desperately crawling faster and faster. But before he could reach out to John, the older man hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Listen—</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he whispered. He held his ear up to catch the cries of the pup. Ringo heard nothing except for a weak panting sound. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>He's close.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo gave a weak nod and began to scour the ground, inspecting every cavity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John," Ringo called. "Found 'im."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pup was buried in a small tunnel in the rock, one carved by weathering. Sulfuric waters must have bubbled out from there, the small opening getting corroded until it was just large enough for the pup to fit in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John drifted in next to Ringo, staring down the hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," he muttered, "he's really stuck in there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen—" "Hey—" they both began at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You go first," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was gonna say you should reach in with your legs and get 'im," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn't quite let out a chuckle, but he did feel slightly amused. "I was gonna say that he's too deep in for me to reach."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They floated there, in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry for yellin'," John said, "but can you please just save the little guy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not mad! I really can't reach in there, too narrow," he quickly explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh— </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John muttered before rubbing his hands together and sinking to the opening of the hole. With a steely breath, he reared his hands back and began to pummel the raw stone, the heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>thuds </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his fists impacting the ground vibrating through the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crack!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The stone burst open and chunks flew out, leaving a small crater behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Big enough now?" John asked, shaking his hands, hiding the red welts on his knuckles. Wordlessly, Ringo sunk down into the divot and let his tentacles unfurl. One of them slipped down the hole and began to stretch out, crawling deeper and deeper. He was reaching so far that his entire body began to sink in, stopping right where his skeleton began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he felt something cold brush against the tip of his tentacle and then a twinge of pain and reeled it in. He flew up and grabbed the seal gnawing on his tentacle like a worm on a hook. John smiled, gave a thumbs-up, and turned to face where they were supposed to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know about you, but I'm tired of this heat," John complained. "So let's get goin', yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded, holding the seal tight to his chest, the poor thing wiped out from the heat and the chemicals. John offered his hand to Ringo, and Ringo took it without complaint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With John leading them, they quickly made their way to the edge of the plateau, and before Ringo could beg John to slow down, they flew off of the cliff and pulled into a nosedive, zipping through the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was laughing while Ringo screamed, terrified of falling to his death. The cliff had to be at least one hundred feet in the air, and a fall from that height would kill him—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he weren't underwater, that is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drifted down at a gentle pace and John kept his eyes open for the exit of the cave. Paul and George had to have gotten out, surely. Yet, even with Ringo's help, the two of them couldn't spot anything that resembled their friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dammit," John cursed. Ringo echoed the sentiment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drifted along the base of the plateau, calling out until something approached. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was remarkably similar to a barracuda, except this one was disturbingly long like a serpent. John quickly shut his mouth and drew still. Didn't matter how strong a shark was, compared to that beast, John was easy prey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They couldn't scream, lest every sea monster come for them. So they settled down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop lookin' so nervous. We'll find 'em," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo shook his head. "It's not that, it's just— am I too overbearing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd say you're underwhelming, truthfully."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I mean with George! Am I like, too possessive?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What— no," John hastily said. "That was just some shit I was sayin', didn't mean it. I get pissed for no reason— you know that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I… guess, but..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But nothing," John huffed. "And besides, you help him all the time and I just hurt him. Is simple as that, really."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo closed his mouth. He didn't know how to feel about it all, but he was incredibly glad that John didn't resent him for their fight earlier. He watched as John was playing with the seal, petting the small pup and letting him teeth on his callused skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The guy's hungry, I'm gonna get some food," John announced, rising up and away. "Find somewhere for us to sleep," he said to Ringo as he left. It wouldn't be difficult of course; Ringo already spotted a small outcropping in the cliff wall. It was covered in some foliage too, a thin layer of carpet-like algae coating the bottom. No, Ringo was struggling with the thought of John leaving. It was silly and foolish, but he felt like he was in danger without his presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But alas, he had no choice. Ringo crawled into the small shelter dug into the cliff wall and tried to make himself cozy. There was a sort of orange hanging moss or ivy dangling from the ceiling, and the pup kept nipping at the ends of them. With every passing minute, the seal grew more exhausted while Ringo only became more restless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey there, little guy,” Ringo gently whispered. “I’m sorry we can’t go and look for your mother,” he said. The pup rolled around on the bottom of the shelter, oblivious to the meaning of Ringo’s words. “It’s taking John a while, huh?” Ringo then muttered, reaching down to pet him, scratching his stubby snout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept an eye on the seal, making sure he didn’t swim out of the cave or bite on rocks. The thing was adorable, and the time snuck by until Ringo cast a glance at the outside to see red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was sunset and John was still absent. With every passing second, the little cubbyhole Ringo found grew darker and darker, the waters colder. He clutched the seal like he was a teddy bear. He needed to hold onto something comforting. What if the scary snake fish came back? What if John died? What if—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There you are," came a familiar voice. "Stop choking the little guy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo didn't notice his eyes had squeezed closed or how he was clutching the seal too tightly. He felt so ungodly relieved to see John again. He watched as John dragged in a large hunk of a massive fish, one that reminded Ringo of the barracuda they saw. John simply dumped the meat in the middle of the floor and began to eat, with the seal pup licking and biting it too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yoosh ca' eat too, yoo know," John said in between mouthfuls of fish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right," Ringo muttered, hoping his anxiety had passed enough to not upset his stomach. He didn't feel particularly hungry for the fish, but he was starving and had little choice. He sliced off a hunk for himself and found that it was juicy, if not sinewy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha're'yoosh gunna name 'im?" John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed. "The pup, his name. What is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I haven't come up with one yet," Ringo admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, okay," John muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why, you got any ideas?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John bit his lip, then slowly said, "...Julian."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's… a nice name," Ringo said. "But I thought you didn't want to keep 'im," he sneered. "That he'd eat all our food—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh shut it," John said. "He's grown on me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John Lennon has a heart," Ringo cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'Course I do," John said. "Kept you, didn't I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo paused and stared at John, who was laying down, gently petting Julian. John </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>keep him. For all the painful insults he hurled, every violent outburst, John was the one who saved Ringo's life. Not George or Paul, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>John. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He cared. And Ringo was ashamed to think that he ever considered abandoning this man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You did," Ringo said. "Thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John turned his attention to Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...you're welcome," John replied, uneasy with himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And, um, George, he really loves you. I know I've snapped at you, but he does," Ringo admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pah. Tell him to forget about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't change his mind," Ringo said. "And I can't blame him for feeling that way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, he's wasting his time. I'm honestly surprised you an' him didn't hit the road without me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo let out a nervous chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't tell me you two actually—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The thought crossed my mind," Ringo admitted. "I never mentioned it to anyone, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm too useful to drop," John muttered. "I've been thinkin'... there's a reason everyone left me. I'm a big, scary shark and that's all I'm good for." Ringo wanted to argue otherwise, but John was right and he knew that. Lying wouldn't help anyone. "I wanted to kill humans," John said. "I thought it made me happy. But then you come along and plant flowers and read and wear necklaces and shit— and it's like— I don't even know how to describe it." John looked at Ringo. "It's like— I spent my whole day looking for boats to sink and I come back and I get this feeling that it was a mistake. I don't even like gardenin', but I still want it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're planning to make a new garden when we get to your friends," Ringo said. "You're welcome to join."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe, yeah. That'd be nice," John muttered, shifting his body so that he was more comfortable. "You seem to have it all figured out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I doubt that," Ringo muttered, but John didn't reply. He had already fallen asleep. It had been a long day, sure, but Ringo didn't feel tired at all. The last time he properly slept was now two nights ago, yet his body protested the notion of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes and drew still, relaxing every muscle in his body, counting manatees in his sleep, thinking about something boring to pass out to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But unconsciousness never came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he involuntarily shivered and had to beg for help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John? Are you awake?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He poked John's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>John!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck off," John groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't sleep—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why not?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo let out a sigh. "Promise you won't laugh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just spit it out!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I'm scared of the dark."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...but the cavern is dark and you slept fine there," John pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but I had George there and—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then pretend I'm Geo," John interrupted. "Would that help?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo scoffed. "It's not that easy!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure it is," John said. "Watch." He got up and slid over to Ringo, gently lowering his body on top of him until he was crushing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John, this isn't gonna work—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, shush, I'm George. Listen: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aye jus' love yeh, Ringsy!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he cooed in the most thick, exaggerated approximation of George's drawl. "Yer th' love o' me life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against his better judgment, Ringo giggled at the atrocious imitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow, Geo, when did you get so fat?" he shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, jus' th' weight o' me big ol' 'eart," John cooed. "Lorra things teh love yeh fer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go on..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like yer eyes, an' yer </span>
  <em>
    <span>her,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John said. "An' yer smile, an' yer lips."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, John lowered his head so that he was inches above Ringo's face. He licked his lips and then kissed Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not a peck or a smooch, but a full kiss, and Ringo's mind shut off. His lips were warm and firm, and the kiss was a lot rougher than George's but no less enjoyable. And John broke away to nestle his head in the crook of Ringo's neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love yeh, Ritch," he muttered, leaving Ringo speechless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet for all the confusion and questions he had, Ringo fell asleep too quickly to get any answers.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. The Dragon and The Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>THIS CHAPTER HAS NSFW</p><p>Two characters have sex in this chapter. It's mainly in between the second and third flashbacks if you want to skim over it.</p><p>With that, I hope you enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oi, Hazza," Stu called, watching the dark waters around them with a cautious gaze. His long, paper-like fins gently waved up and down. "...where's Lennon?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Out," George said. "And I'm supposed to be with him—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>" 'Bout that..." Stu trailed, eyes quickly darting about, squinting at the inky blackness, "we're plannin' to leave."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Who? You and Astrid?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"...all of us. We're going to the Gulf on the Northern shore of Viridis."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oh. Well, when will you be back?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something in Stu's facial expression shifted. His lengthy fins stopped bobbing; his gaze trained on George.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"We're going, George," he finally said. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"But what about John?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're just gonna leave him?!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stu said nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're just gonna leave me?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm sorry," Stu said. "But we can't be with him. He's not the same—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You wouldn't be the same if your mother died either!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I didn't come here to fight. I just wanted to tell you we'd be going."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Then go!" George spat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stu nodded and turned, not dignifying George's outburst with any words. He simply drifted away while George watched him go, slowly fading away in the haze of the water.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The next day, he waited near the edge of their home, watching for Stu, wondering if his friends were gone for good. He'd wait, hoping that some beast would come for them and hurt them, forcing them to turn around and beg for John and George's help. Days became weeks which became months, yet he still kept watch. Maybe they didn't mean it. Surely Pattie wouldn't have just left him behind like that? They were friends; they spent the last ten years together. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They'd come back someday. George knew they would.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Soon, it was the anniversary of their departure and George waited, wondering when his friends would come for him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When they would make the trip back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When they would remember he existed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He ended that day going back into the cavern, moving past John's unconscious body and curling up in the back, realizing the painful truth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one cared about him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looted ships and gathered food. He'd laugh at John's jokes and stay quiet when he was mad.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He'd live, wondering what the point was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then, on the twelfth year of his isolation, he was in the guts of a submarine, combing the floor for any valuables when he heard a thud. John was shouting, and when he came out to investigate—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He found what he had been waiting for.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>...rge…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...eorge…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George!" Paul shouted, shaking him awake. "Stay with me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George jolted back to reality, shaking his head. It was too bright, and the sun burned—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to get out of here," Paul said. "It's dangerous—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo," he stuttered out, his jaw trembling. "Is he—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's alright, he's with John. We're going to meet up with them outside the cave, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, head bobbing up and down frantically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need you to say it, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-okay," George stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Paul said and took George's hand to lead him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They could hear the cave exploding through the rock like a muffled firecracker. And the heat— it was hot before, but now it was blistering. It was like they were in a sauna except this one was filled with lava.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a poor time for Paul to realize that as a fish, he could not sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if the heat grew more unbearable, the stench of the cave waned. Their noses must have already grown used to it. The twisting tunnels were claustrophobic, and Paul grimaced when he had to squeeze through the more narrow parts. He was paranoid to touch the walls. After all, the devastating chain reaction that blew the whole place to kingdom-come was caused by John smashing crystals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'S my fault," George muttered. "The collaspin'. I was the one who asked John to get the crystals."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't know this would happen, I just thought they were pretty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I agree," Paul said. "And don't… don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know; it's not your fault."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed, voice hollowly echoing across the cave. "Haven't I told </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul froze, tail twitching mid-motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right," he muttered, turning himself around and continuing to swim on. Paul didn't want to talk anymore, lest he focuses too much on the consequences of his actions.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George," Paul called, watching as Ringo retreated. "I need to talk to you." He faintly registered his pounding heart; the way the brevity left George. He needed to make things right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Alright, then," George said, guarded.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>John turned away, giving the illusion of privacy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'm sorry," Paul said, "that you lost your arm because of me. And I'm ashamed that it took me this long to say it."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George's expression faltered, going from indifference to concern, almost sorrow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Thanks," he muttered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Uh, that's not all—" Paul hastily said. "I… I want to stay."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With you, he wanted to add, but doesn't.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>John shifted and soon smirked at Paul.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And George… his lips parted to reveal a toothy grin. It was the first time Paul made him smile after what happened.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"About damn time," John said.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>"Do you think it was a mistake? Moving?" George suddenly asked as Paul tried to wriggle through a tight passage. He was able to get his torso through but got stuck around his midsection, the rocks pinching his hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll get out of this cave," Paul huffed, pushing against the walls. With a final heave, Paul popped free and went hurtling towards a wall coated in crystals. He froze, afraid he broke them, but they were sturdy enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right," George muttered, easily slipping through the gap. He found that he felt dizzy, but slapped himself awake. They continued, Paul getting increasingly better at squeezing through the tight bottlenecks, George having to sometimes help push him. The cave was like a long hallway, with no branching paths to explore. John was right; there was only one way in and one way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George found that the heat wasn't as bad, but he was certain his brain was just shutting out the pain. His skin was getting dissolved too, but it barely registered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnel sloped downwards, and at some point, Paul wondered when it would start going up. It felt like they were going on and on towards the center of the planet at this rate. Glowing magma peered through the cracks in the stone, and the firey light replaced the unnatural chemical glow. It was hard to see, but the cave opened up into a small chamber, one underlit by magma, creating dark, moody lighting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul paused before slowly moving to the edge of the chamber. There was one entrance, but the exit—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's completely caved in," George muttered, staring at the crumbled rock in front of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll go back and check for another way out," Paul quickly said. "George, you—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stay behind, I know," George muttered. "Just be quick."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded and left silently, while George took stock of the chamber. The floor was made out of cooled magma, it seemed, formed with layers of smooth, black stone. Unlike the rest of the craggy cave, it was nice to lay on, warmed like it had been basking in the sun all day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul would be back; George knew that. He knew that there were no other paths to explore, no more routes. He knew Paul didn't invite him because it would be a waste of time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn't stop the reflexive feeling of loss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul would come back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George watched the entrance of the chamber, slowly folding up and waiting, closing his eyes and drawing still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Paul would go through the cave and realize that it was all a waste. So when he returned, finding George still and quiet, he sighed. They both realized that this was it. They were stuck, and there was no chance of escape, lest they smash through and risk an explosive death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All we can do is hope John or Ringo finds us," Paul said. "Maybe I can try breaking through—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't— please, Paul," George begged. "Don't do that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's either we risk blowing up or dying here," Paul said. "There's no point in waiting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So if you knew you were going to die, you wouldn't do anything special? Try to enjoy the last minutes you had?" George asked, pained. "Look, we should wait for Ringo and John. Ringo can maybe squeeze through, or John can rush us out—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know that's not going to work," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but—" George started. "I'd want to say goodbye first. At the very least, I'd want them to know that we didn't leave them behind! I wouldn't want Ringo and John to keep looking for our </span>
  <em>
    <span>charred corpses!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>George roared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd rather live thinking they left than knowing they're gone forever," Paul calmly replied, settling down next to George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why does it matter to you?" George said. "You don't know how they feel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I know more about love than you do," Paul gritted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you don't," George spat. "You can't love at all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can't! You're too fucking busy hating yourself to ever care about anyone else! You've only stayed out of guilt— and don't try to convince me otherwise!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," Paul growled. "You don't know anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then enlighten me," George spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I left," he said, "because I loved you. Because I knew that if I stayed, I'd hate Ringo because of it. I was supposed to die out there, Geo. And you were supposed to stay home and forget about me and you wouldn't have lost your arm and you would have everything you wanted—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I wouldn't! Paul, I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't say it! Don't you dare think that you can kiss someone and declare it as love, you're wrong— it's just pity!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You think that I ran away, swam all the way to you, climbed onto a human ship, and lost my arm— </span>
  <em>
    <span>all out of pity?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul stopped, froze, and stared at George and his long fangs. There was a wild glint in his eyes, as well as something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not— Geo..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You care," George said. "I know you do. But you're such </span>
  <em>
    <span>a coward that you'd rather die than admit it!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul took a deep breath and then stared at George, his lithe body, the way he was breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're wrong," Paul said, voice tempered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah? Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking prove it—</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have time to finish as Paul lunged on top of George, sending their bodies crashing to the ground as he planted his lips on him. His kisses were wet and sloppy, open-mouthed, fast, and aggressive. He practically attacked George, giving him no room to breathe until he felt George push back, tongue darting in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul pulled back in an instant and stared at George, the way he was panting, lips red and slightly parted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I care," Paul panted. "Is that what you wanted?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, George just smiled and began to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How long have you wanted to do that?" he asked, still pinned under Paul. He was warm, almost thrumming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— wasn't thinking, I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't start now," George said, slightly chuckling. "How long?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...too long," Paul muttered, bending down slightly into George. He closed his eyes and found his mouth on George yet again, this time tasting him, the salt on his skin, the metallic tang of blood—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George's fangs were nibbling at Paul's lip and soon trailed down, around the curve of his jaw, and down his neck, marking up the skin. And Paul found that it wasn't enough. He wanted more, so much more and all the fears and doubts: Ringo, John, the sulfur and the heat, none of it mattered. He wanted George and stopped thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was biting into Paul's neck, their hips grinding together as they rolled onto the ground, George clutching Paul like a lifeline. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul was so hot and needy, he didn't think anymore. His hands trailed down to George's thin hips, one hand placed on his lower back, and the other reaching, searching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he found it when George shook and stopped biting. Paul's fingers hovered over the entrance, and for the first time, he hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul… please," George whimpered, and soon he let out a long whine when Paul slid in a finger, feeling how tight he was. And then he slowly pushed it in deeper, listening to the way George </span>
  <em>
    <span>sang </span>
  </em>
  <span>and shuddered, trembling and begging for more. Paul could feel his tail reach up and begin to wrap around his, the fins and tendrils clinging to him. They kissed again and Paul suddenly slid in another finger so he could hear George moan into his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>P-Paul,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George shuddered, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>stop, I need, I—</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul froze, finding himself disappointed. He pulled his hand out—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, don't,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George hastily muttered, grabbing Paul's hand. Before Paul could ask, he spun around so that his head was positioned in front of Paul's crotch, and without any warning, let his tongue in. Paul could feel the way George's fangs gave the tiniest nibble at Paul and how his entire body buckled. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time— he was positive he forgot </span>
  <em>
    <span>how— </span>
  </em>
  <span>but George was releasing years of pent up longing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For whom, it did not matter. Paul knew he had started, he knew that he was going slow, wanting George to come undone at his every movement, but now that George was doing the same to him, he couldn't focus anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George— </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he moaned. "I need—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pulled his lips off of Paul, making a popping sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me what you want,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" George huskily growled, and Paul found himself slipping away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted George's lips back on him, sucking. He wanted to keep pushing into George, making him scream with pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Y-you,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Paul whimpered. “I need you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George gripped Paul’s hips and forced his mouth back down, sucking hard and stopping Paul from finishing his sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And somewhere, their minds began to shut off, being clogged with pleasure and want and need and lust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body moved on its own, possessed and desperate for more of George. Everything in the world melted away as Paul strained to hear George's grunts over his own pounding heart. He could smell George, his scent, the salt and dirt on his back. His body was burning, melting as George kept working his tongue inside of him, using those beautiful fangs to full effect, and it hurt as George kept going in deeper and deeper but it felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he tried to focus on George but he couldn't and </span>
  <em>
    <span>God—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to burst at the seams and wrapped his right arm around George’s upside-down torso and George just kept at it even as Paul thrust his left hand in and out. George became more clumsy and loud, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so, so loud, </span>
  </em>
  <span>whining as he desperately ate out Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he felt himself get close, he grabbed George's head by the mass of disheveled hair and held him there as he came, letting out a primal wail. And George stayed there, arching his back and giving out a high whine, almost crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then they continued, the last recesses of Paul's human mind shutting off, letting primal instinct drive him. They went at it furiously, tension rising and rising and boiling over as they desperately thrashed together, going over the edge again and again, no longer caring about anything else.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Hey, Paul?" George asked, leaning into the other man's shoulder. Paul was reading to him, but neither one of them would remember what the book was later. Paul had half a mind to tell George to get off, but couldn't.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah?" Paul asked, closing the book.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George hesitated before slowly bringing up his hands to brush through Paul's hair. "Thanks," he said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's no trouble at all," Paul muttered, staring at the book. He didn't care for the lessons much, but George seemed to enjoy them and Paul didn't have the heart to tell him he wanted to stop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's nice," George said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"...the reading?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George didn't immediately reply, instead nestling in more towards Paul.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Having someone here to talk to, to do things with," George said. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I suppose," Paul muttered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You know… you remind me of someone I used to love," George continued. "Like, in the way we can just sit here and talk… do you know what I mean?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yeah," Paul muttered. "It's a good feeling."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"The best, even," George chuckled and then looked at Paul with his deep dark eyes. And Paul found that he couldn't think about anything else at that moment. No Earth, nor Ringo, nor John, nor Linda.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just them, together.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alone.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When Paul came to, he was holding George's frail frame close to his chest. George's hair was a mess, sprawled out like the wild mane it was. He could see and smell the semen on their bodies smudged between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And slowly, Paul realized everything. But before he could talk to George, to even begin to dissect the millions of feelings he felt, he heard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oi! Paul! George! Cunts!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"John, don't call them that."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul jolted up, and quickly shook George awake, regretting having to see his blissed-out expression turn to one of alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>They're here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Paul whispered and George crawled out from under him and attempted to straighten himself out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"J-John!" Paul shouted out, cringing at how his voice wavered. "We're in here!"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I told you they were here!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Shut the fuck up," </span>
  </em>
  <span>John grumbled. "Are you both in there?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye," George called back. "You gonna bust us out?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No other choice," John said. "Stand back!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul wondered what happened to George wanting to say goodbye but found that he didn't care. He felt… rather detached. All he could focus on was George, the soft arc of his spine down to the crest in his hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John slammed into the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul rubbed his thumb against George's jaw and bent over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chamber trembled under the impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, parted his lips, and kissed George again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John came in flying through the wall as they broke away. Ringo swam up to George and started fretting, looking at all the numerous bruises littering his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Explosion did a number on your neck, mate," John said, poking the red spots connecting Paul's collarbone to his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," was all Paul said, watching as Ringo's tentacles wrapped around George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he thought. He thought about how he could have broken through that wall if he tried. How he could have let George go to Ringo when the cave first fell. How he could have refused to come along when they moved, or run away again, or never get found by George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn't like reading, but he liked George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as Ringo and John moved out, chattering about their adventure and cooing over Julian, George and Paul looked at each other and turned their attention forwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn't need to say anything.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Sea of Green</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been over two weeks since I updated and I felt oddly guilty for that</p><p>Anyway, TW: there are dead bodies in this chapter. No one dies on screen (or on page?) but I thought a heads-up would be good.</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As they left the magma chamber, Paul’s mind was racing. How could it not? George was all over Ringo, nuzzling the younger man’s neck, arms intertwined. Paul saw George’s lips phantom over Ringo, and the marks on Paul’s skin begin to burn. They were so close, the pinnacle of puppy love. They way they softly giggled under their breaths, gazing at each other with those lovey-dovey eyes and whispering what could only be poetic declarations of love. It was pure and innocent like they were newlyweds on their honeymoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul should be happy; he knows he should. A love like that will help George, no doubt about that. Even now, Paul can’t see the missing limb, only the way George hugs Ringo twice as hard with his right arm. Paul can go about the rest of his life supporting his two friends, a label he doesn’t feel ashamed to use anymore. His mind feels funny right now, full of sulfur and sex, no doubt, but he can now believe Ringo and George care for him. As such, he shouldn’t let them down anymore; it’s only the fair thing to do. He should turn his sluggish body forward and swim on, confident in George and Ringo’s relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve experienced George in a way you never will, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he selfishly thinks. George is all over Ringo but sometimes he casts sly glances at Paul and they’re both thinking the same thing. That glint in his eyes starts a fire in his belly and Paul doesn’t know how to cool down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’ll stay, of course, and let Ringo love George, and forget about what happened. They thought they were going to be boiled alive in that cave and in the face of death, lost control of their impulses. It happened and now it was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if Paul had to be truly honest with himself, if George came onto him, he wouldn’t be able to say no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would stay back for now but continue to stare at George’s slender form from behind. Before, he would have said George had an emancipated figure, but now it was waifish and statuesque.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul closed his eyes and pretended to be relieved at the fact that they met up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John put his hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi," he started before his voice dropped to a whisper. "You and Geo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what about us?" Paul hesitantly asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't tell anyone," John said with a small smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what you're talking about," Paul said, turning his attention forward, swimming ahead. "Nothing happened between us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John almost snorted but thankfully dropped it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They swam together, Ringo seemingly unaware of the tension between the rest of them. Paul in particular seemed out of it but the man had spent the whole day trapped in a boiling, acidic cave. Both him and George had plated skin, so they handled it a lot better than Ringo could. His skin was soft and pulpy and would have dissolved trapped down there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo's sleep last night went well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely well</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He had passed out almost immediately after John… kissed him? It was hard to tell; Ringo was starting to think he dreamed it, which was another problem in and of itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why on Earth would he dream about kissing John? And if it wasn't a dream, why did John do it? And why did Ringo crave more of it?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really am clingy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I go one day without George and I'm already drooling over John. How pathetic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and drifted onwards, feeling the cold sting of the water. After all that time spent in the tunnel, which was essentially a giant microwave, the open seas felt frigid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to snuggle up next to someone, mainly George. So he turned around only to catch sight of Paul holding George's only hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo was ashamed to admit that he mourned the loss of George's other arm only because he couldn't hold his hand at that moment. It was fine, though. Paul had a second hand—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until John swooped in and took it, giving a crooked grin at Paul and George, leaving Ringo and Julian alone. He picked up the seal and pretended to be occupied, trying to fight the feeling of betrayal he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Betrayal. Why did he feel betrayal? Why was his heart racing over the three of them holding hands? And why couldn’t he just ask to join them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much longer ‘till we’re there?” Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure,” yawned John. “Maybe one or two days. Maybe more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That… doesn’t actually tell me anything,” Ringo hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye, but I can say that we’re on track, aside from yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What he means to say,” Paul interrupted, “is that we’ll get there when we get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And ‘s not like you got somewhere to be,” John added, looking down at Ringo. "Why're you so antsy, anyroad?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyroad," George echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not </span>
  <em>
    <span>antsy," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo huffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you are," John said. "You're all blue."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loathe to admit it, but John was right. His rings were glowing a soft blue, stark against his dirty pink skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just… nervous," Ringo lied, "about the trip." He wanted to swap positions with Paul so badly but he wouldn't admit that. He shouldn't be selfish and make Paul have to sit out because he could handle </span>
  <em>
    <span>George </span>
  </em>
  <span>holding hands with </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone else.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>God, he was a fool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could look away and try to regain his composure, he heard a strange noise. It was a soft tapping, clacking like a distant typewriter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tack, tack, tack.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you hear that?" Ringo asked, trying not to let the panic come through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't hear anything," George muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo strained his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's stopped," he said. "It was this weird clacking—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Suuuuure </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was," John sneered and suddenly lunged forward to grab Ringo by his waist and hoisted him up like a piece of luggage. "How much sleep did you get last night?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Enough," Ringo spat. "I got enough."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then what's wrong with you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's nothing wrong with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>For fuck’s sake,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John hissed. "What's </span>
  <em>
    <span>bothering </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wanted to struggle out of John's chokehold but stopped. John was trying to be nice and talk to him, even if his methods were annoying at best. It was hard to have a heart to heart when you were dangling sideways and at the mercy of a shark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just, I want to be with Paul— </span>
  <em>
    <span>George! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I want to be with Geo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then go to him," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But he's with Paul, y'know? And I can't shove Paul away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you ever considered the possibility that you can be with both George </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Paul?" John asked. "You like them both."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not the same," Ringo said. "You wouldn't understand. Why are you trying to be so nice, anyway?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't a fella' be nice once in a while?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but… it's odd, coming from you," Ringo admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo saw John shoot a glance back at George and Paul, fingers intertwined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m a little kid, I guess," John said. "I see something and I want to take it and make it all mine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not sure I follow," Ringo admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...me neither," John said. "Don't worry about it, yeah? Just go in there and get your man." With that, he spun Ringo around and gave him a pat on the ass, an action that shouldn’t have made Ringo shudder as much as he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a bit weird, cozying up to George when he still stank of rotten eggs, but Ringo powered through. He didn't say anything aside from "hello" to him and Paul, for the both of them were already swimming in silence. There was something odd about them, the way they moved, but Ringo brushed it off as paranoia. It would all end once he was able to properly rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went along, John instinctively leading them on and into a field of green. Heavy vegetation loomed in front of them, like a beast waiting for its prey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this it?" Paul suddenly asked. "The South?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," came John's reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should go around," George said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We've already wasted a day and we're out of food. We're going in," John gritted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why? What's so dangerous about it?" Paul asked. "It's just plants."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a grave—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're going!" John shouted, darting ahead, leaving them with no choice but to follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo knew what this place was. Unlike the gardens that George loved so much, the green sea in front of them was far from tranquil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giant vine-like structures drooped, seemingly anchored to the surface of the sea, and covered in a thick layer of finger-like moss. Specks of spores drifted through the water, which was thick like a bowl of primordial soup. It felt like mucus swimming through it. There were more plants up ahead, each one reaching sky high and branching off into impossible complex structures of vines and leaves forming a net. The entire area was the same sickly green as a pus-filled wound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bloom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We'll be fine if we're fast enough," Ringo consoled. "Nothing here can hurt us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George bit his bottom lip, fangs poking into the skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are we?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Paul whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A graveyard," George said and trailed after John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several plants were shaped like giant flowers, sans the fact that they were crusted over with moss. Translucent bulbs of spores peered at them like pale eyes embedded in the Earth. Even the ground looked spongy, formed with a solid three feet of parasitic algae.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others were moving ahead, Julian circling them all excitedly. Even with what John said, Ringo struggled to articulate his thoughts. He looked at them, George and Paul, together. John, exuberant and intimidating. He thought of all the quiet moments they spent. Every laugh, every fight, every time they touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And seeing the swell in Paul's hips and the curve in George's spine made him realize that he didn't know what he wanted. He thought he wanted George, but now his mind was screaming at him not to replace Paul but to </span>
  <em>
    <span>insert </span>
  </em>
  <span>himself right between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandwiched, snuggling, warm, content. That was the feeling he craved the most. That was all he wanted. To feel safe, cared for, loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was greedy. He could dedicate himself to George and be perfectly happy that way, but some part of him thought that it wasn't enough and that he needed John to kiss him again and Paul to hold him and tell him how wonderful he is as well, and now that he had it in his mind there was no way he could settle for less, but that implied George was less and wasn't good enough but he was and so were Paul and John?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo clutched his head. What was wrong with him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay. Back to square one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What did he want? He wanted to be loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who could give him that? Well, there were three likely candidates right in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without thinking much more than that, he dashed ahead. He swam far faster than he could to get to them, ready to call out their names—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, Ringo saw them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bodies, tangled up in the vines, strangled and limp. Some of them had stems sprouting out of them like a potato, others were coated in grotesque spore-filled welts. Every single one of them was merfolk, not a single animal to be found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the bodies, large and heavy and low, was mangled enough to make Paul shudder. It was a sailfish, one that had sported a large majestic bill, except it had bloated so much that its skin burst like overripe fruit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo could help but stare, entranced, almost, by the notion that this merman, whoever he was, was like Paul. Maybe this was what Paul would have ended up as if George didn't come for him: a rotting corpse dredged up by the seabed. He peered into the hollow eye sockets, trying not to cringe at the tendrils growing inside. More oddly, he noticed something on the fish's shoulder, what he could only describe as stitches as if the arm had fallen off and someone reattached it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo!" Paul shouted, and before he could react, the sailfish's arm jerked forward and clawed at Ringo's vulnerable neck. Within microseconds, Ringo was far away and cowering behind Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sailfish's arm kept reaching out, grasping, but the rest of the body was rooted in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay," Paul muttered. "He can't move."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but he fuckin' scared me," Ringo said. Glancing up, he saw the other bodies hovering above, heads all turned to look down at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a mass grave, Ringo realized. It made him sick with guilt to only now realize that. A sight like this would have been a global outrage in the human world he knew, but now? It was just a group of dead fish. Survival of the fittest and all that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered when he grew so apathetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go," someone said, and Ringo nodded. There was nothing worth staying here for. He came upon Paul's right and they went off as a group.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This whole place is a tumor," John said, breaking the silence. He seemed to be focused on the bodies, which made Ringo fear that he might have been considering eating them but stopped. John wouldn't, he told himself, and the fact that he was herding Julian away from the corpses proved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo looked at the ground, because anything was better than the sight above, and soon noticed an odd streaking pattern. It was as if something heavy was dragged through here. John snapped his tail and dashed ahead, and Ringo saw what was moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a giant hermit crab, like the ones they saw migrating. Its shell resembled rose-gold soft serve, perfectly shaped and somewhat shiny. It would have been gorgeous if not for the fact that it was shattered and beaten to death. Metallic shards were littered about as the crab laid there, motionless, innards exposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went without saying that John was already shoveling in down hunks of meat down his gullet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing?" Ringo hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jus' a quick bite, don't worry," John said between mouthfuls of crab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John, something killed this crab!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, obviously."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wanted to scream. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>killed it could still be here! You can't—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>"You can't stuff your fat face while we're in danger," </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he was interrupted by </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> whizzing behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only caught a glimpse but knew that they were dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature was a technicolor blur, even in the murky haze of green. It had rows of tiny legs scurrying under it and that was all Ringo could see before it disappeared back into the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian started barking, John cursed, Paul got in front of Ringo and George, and the strange creature barreled at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was fast too, and its eyes looked like two moons sitting on its face. It was all Ringo could see aside from the blur of blue and red. It came at them and Paul tried to grab it at its neck, but it was faster. It ducked, swiveled, and targeted John. Two hammer-like claws swung out from under it like bullets. One missed, whiffing into the open water, and the other slammed into the hermit crab's shell, shattering it completely. John brought his fists together and brought them down on the back of the creature's head. It screamed while its disgusting multitude of legs writhed like a sea of maggots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Follow me," </span>
  </em>
  <span>George suddenly whispered, taking Ringo and swimming away, crawling into the mass of vines and bodies. If the bodies were disturbing before, George's idea to hide within them was abhorrent. But George's camouflage was so great that he practically turned invisible. Ringo followed suit, feeling his skin and muscles flex and retract, losing their color and resembling dead vegetation. He felt like a coward, but he knew he'd be of no use fighting that thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It kept darting out of sight and then circling until it found John and Paul's blind spots, always catching them off-guard. This thing, whatever the hell it was, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>winning. </span>
  </em>
  <span>John was too slow to hit it, as was Paul. All the while it kept hitting them with hit-and-run tactics, beating them while Ringo could only watch in fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature's claws swung out again, this time grazing John's shoulder but still causing him to howl in pain at the newly opened skin. Paul tried to grab it from behind, but it spun around and shot its claw into Paul's midsection, causing him to heave and spasm. Then, it raised its pincers over Paul's skull and drew them back. Ringo flew out of his hiding spot, screaming—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it stopped. Almost like a broken record, the thing started to stutter, muttering, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>C-ca-c-c-c-ca-ca-cap—</span>
  </em>
  <span>" It trembled and quickly darted off before Paul could fight back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck—" John whimpered. His shoulder, which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>grazed, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was completely ripped open and bleeding. Julian was trying to lick at it and John just kept hissing at the pain. Paul wrapped his arms around his midsection, worried about his cracked or broken ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George slithered out from his hiding spot, unable to say a word out of shock. In less than five minutes, some creature had almost murdered John and Paul and left just as quickly as it appeared. And now that it was gone, they were all in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to go," Ringo said, breaking the silence, "before it comes back—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He. It was a man," Paul wheezed. "He was a person."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John took a shaky breath, almost a sob. He kept clutching at his ruined shoulder. Ringo could barely comprehend what happened but started to lead John and Paul out. Far away from the butchered crab and the rotting corpses hung like hunks of meat at a butcher's. It was almost automatic, just moving forward, getting away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so they went, shuffling along, paranoid and hurting and terrified until George spotted a small cave buried under coral and an anemone. Without a word, they decided to bunker down before some other inexplicable threat showed itself to finish them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as they retreated, the creature that assaulted them, the man who could have broken Paul's skull in an instant, returned to where they had fought. He clutched a small metal object, two circles of glass wrapped in a frame, one glass cracked, both lenses filthy, the wires bent. He scanned the area, looking for the man he recognized. But they were long gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clutched the fragile spectacles and called out one last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"C-Captain?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Not a stranger anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something surreal about seeing John wounded. John, the one man who Ringo thought was no less than a force of nature, brought down by his gaping shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Any lower," John wheezed out, "and we could've been matching, Geo." He chuckled before wincing again, as George was tending to the wound. Unlike John, he wasn't in a humorous mood at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul stayed silent in the back, ribs bruised in a painterly splotch of red and purple but thankfully not broken. It felt like every day they drew closer to death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it always gonna be like this?" Ringo asked. "Constantly getting attacked? Almost dying?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're the one who wanted to move," John huffed, before bending over to lick his shoulder like a dog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We all wanted to move," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know, I know," John grumbled. "We only have a few days of travel left, stop your complaining."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo glanced at George, looking at his arm. Although it was most likely healed at this point, George still kept his shoulder tightly wrapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's just rest up, yeah? Wait for that mantis guy to forget about us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...what about food?" George quietly asked. "Me an' Paul, we haven't eaten in since we got stuck in the cave." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I already ate," John said, "me and Jules."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We know," huffed Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll find something," Ringo said. Not because he wanted to be George's knight in shining armor, but because Paul and John were both injured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Should I come with you?" George asked, and Ringo paused. George could go, but Ringo had poison and wasn't completely defenseless. Should their assailant return, Ringo could only envision George's other arm getting mangled before his head popped open like a shaken soda can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got it, don't worry," Ringo said with a wave of the hand and quickly headed out before George could argue against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The seas were morphing from its bright blue to a more velvety orange. The night would quickly follow so Ringo set out with a snap of his tentacles. He was not afraid of the night. Not anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe if he told himself that enough times, it would come true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, the ground was lit enough to see all the microorganisms scurrying about. The largest was about the size of a quarter, however. It would take an hour of gathering up the little bugs to have enough to feed everyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was the issue of feeding Paul. Ringo had become a full-bodied carnivore since his arrival and had no clue what plants were edible. He saw a glossy, yellowish bulb that resembled a fruit, but when he went to pluck it, it deflated. Ichor spilled out and oozed onto Ringo's hand. It would be insulting to give that to Paul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then caught sight of a most peculiar creature. He had never seen anything like it before. It was a stark white, with dashes of black that looked like onyxes embedded in it. Its whole body was shaped like a vague blob, with no distinguishing limbs aside from two long, black ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature was digging into the ground at the base of the plant with the spore pods. When the dirt cleared, Ringo saw the roots of the plant, thick tubes with what looked to be crystals growing out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo smiled; his little food problem just got solved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned a short while later, the bunny-like sea slug in one arm, and a collection of tubers dangling from his tentacles. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Useless."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're not useless."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"He thinks I am!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Come on, you know he's just worried about you."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"It's all pity, innit? That's all it is, I'm just some charity case to him—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"—am I wrong, Paul? Am I?"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Oi, Hazza. Ringo's bustin' his ass for you. He cares."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"He doesn't trust me to do the simplest shit—" </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo had to bite his tongue to stop a choked up bark from slipping out. Everything Paul said about him, it wasn't his feelings, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>George's.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The tips of his fingers felt numb as his blood pumped through him, pounding like static electricity in his ears. A high whine spilled from his lips as he reached his free hand to his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His insides felt like they were boiling while he shivered. What a joke. What a cruel, merciless joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reentered their shelter with a smile plastered on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got dinner," he cheered, trying desperately to not let anyone see him tremble. The sea slug went to George, the roots to Paul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a large crunch as Paul bit into one, slightly louder than the slurping George made eating the sea slug. It was apparent from the way they wolfed it down that they were starving. George took the entire slug in one massive bite and was regretting it when its orangey blood spilled from his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's sweet," Paul said, seemingly oblivious to the mess George was making.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll pass," John huffed. "I just wanna go to sleep."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nibbled on one of the carrot-like roots and hummed. "They are sweet," he said, "but I don't like the rocks growing out of them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The minerals add flavor," Ringo added hastily. "I bet they'd be great cooked."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cooked…?" George hesitantly asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, cause they're so tough right now," Ringo said. As if to emphasize his point, Julian was gnawing on one, unable to pierce its thick skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not my thing," George decided, dropping his half-eaten vegetable and letting it float down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...how would you even cook something underwater?" Paul wondered out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, you— you just heat it—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, yes," Paul hummed, "heat it. Let me turn on our underwater oven and put a kettle on the stove, too." He said it in a snarky voice, one that was more teasing than cruel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's a stove?" George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doesn't matter," John grumbled. "Human fetishists."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, Ringo froze, afraid that John disapproved of him. But he squashed that fear and said, "Listen, listen. Humans make good food! You'll never get to know what it's like to have cake or ice cream and I think that's a right tragedy. Or, hell, just a warm meal. I'm tired of everything tasting like blood."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul glanced away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I miss mashed potatoes. And milk," he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That all?" Ringo had to ask. "You don't— mashed potatoes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My wife did all the cooking," Paul said, "and mashed potatoes was the only dish I knew. She would always say I made it better than her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She sounds like a very nice lady," George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," hummed Paul. "She was. Her name was Linda." He stared at his ring finger, the one his wedding band used to sit on. This time, there was a faint smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo mouthed the name, watching Paul. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Linda. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At that moment, he felt a swell of emotion, yet was unable to put a name to what it was, specifically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've lost my mother," John suddenly said. "So I know what it feels like. You think you've got all the time in the world, and then they're gone and you don't realize how good you had it. And her name was Mary, but we called her Mimi."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's been twelve years," George muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So that was her name. She was Mimi, not Julia, and far more than a specimen to dissect.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"That long… It feels both shorter and longer than that," John mused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Time just melted together," Paul said. "I wonder what Lin would say if she saw me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think," Ringo said, voice heavy, "that she would be happy for you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul let out the tiniest of laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's not a day I don't think about her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad," George said, "that you came back. That you stayed." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about me?" John asked. "Are you glad you stuck with me all these years?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn't immediately reply, letting each second draw out for an eternity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There were some days I'd wish you dead," he said, "but overall, I'd say you're alright. And I bet Mimi's happy you've finally moved out of that dump, too." To anyone else, those words would have been painful to hear. But to John, who knew George all his life, it was praise he wasn't worthy of. John began to smile and was soon wheezing to himself trying not to laugh out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If we're all being honest and open," began Ringo, "I guess..." he trailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm?" Paul hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You three are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he admitted, and after several moments of silence, John began to laugh again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, but your life must've been really fuckin' shitty, then," he wheezed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're just a bunch of sad bastards, aren't we?" Paul said. "The only one who doesn't have issues is Jules and he's an infant."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, don't worry, he'll get traumatized before the year is over," John joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The four of us are disaster magnets," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, and I wouldn't trade the lot of you for anything," George hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An unspoken vow hung in the air, each one of them saying that even if they were against the world, they'd never turn on each other. They were all they had, and only now did they find that a blessing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleep came easily. Tangled up so close that all their heartbeats merged into one. For once, the night wasn't so cold that they didn't need to huddle up for warmth, but they still did out of reflex. Four bodies bundled together so close that at a distance they resembled a four-headed beast, invincible to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they finally woke up, Julian was laying on John's face and completely smothering him. But then Ringo remembered that John breathed through his gills and not his nose. Paul was partially laying on Ringo and he could feel his hot and heavy body engulfing him. George had nibbled at Ringo's neck in the middle of the night and he had to admit he enjoyed the feeling. The idea of a road trip was suddenly very appealing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he chewed on the leftover vegetables from last night, he told himself he wasn't going to let these people slip through his fingers. George's concerns echoed in his head, but he wasn't going to scream and whine about it. George wasn't useless, and Ringo would have to make sure he knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, John woke up and quickly shook the other two awake while swimming up to the surface. He poked his eyes up and stared at the few stars still out. When he came back down he jerked a thumb out and said, "We're on track. We'll arrive at any time now." Despite his optimistic words, John was tense, as if he was preparing to march into battle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tell me more about your friends," Ringo said. There was a reason John and George were so anxious about meeting them and he was determined to find out why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it would be a nice distraction too, at any rate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's Pattie, she's really pretty—" George began before Paul shot him a glare: jealousy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—not as pretty as you, of course," George quickly amended. "And Klaus is really nice, too. And Stu—" he paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cyn's nice. We used to date," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul must have noticed it too, the hesitation and fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't sound particularly fond of these guys," Paul said bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...we're not moving for them," George said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded and continued onward. He still knew next to nothing about who these people were. He wanted to put his best foot, (or tentacle, rather) forward, but it was impossible with no frame of reference for what they were like. For once, George no longer seemed fond of the people he once called his friends. Yet Ringo had the forethought not to press for details. He'd meet everyone soon enough, no need to drill George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the conversation drifted to the more casual topic of house construction, Ringo looked up. He saw what he could only describe as a flock of manta rays, soaring above them up near the surface. Their wide bodies must have been soaking up every ray of sunlight as they passed overhead. Tiny string-like fish darted from under him, weaving through the water like rainbow spools of thread. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This world truly is beautiful, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought. Up ahead was a forest of kelp and coral, full of fiery reds and dusky purples. He couldn't remember a single sight of the Earth oceans that left him as amazed as this world. Even the deadly caves and toxic blooms were magnificent in their lethality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, I was thinking," Paul began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something's always hard the first time you try it," John jokingly sneered, earning a small jab from Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should have a farm or a ranch," Paul said. "Grow crops and raise animals. I think Julian would like to have some friends."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John would have snorted at the mention of crops but raising other animals made him pause. He glanced down at Julian in his arms, who stared back with his beady little eyes. He looked like a stuffed animal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I suppose it would be nice for him," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't believe you didn't want him at one point," George hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John merely shrugged and looked back down at Julian. The pup was on the verge of falling asleep and struggled to keep his eyes open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I think it's a great idea—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George froze mid-sentence, staring far out past the red foliage ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geo?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...there was someone there," he said, stiffening. "He darted into those plants—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit," John hissed out. "Was it that blue arsehole?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, this one was a fish," George said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll go," Ringo suddenly announced. "If he's hiding, then he's probably scared," he reasoned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Or he's luring you in," Paul warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, you and John are injured, so—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And what about me?" George asked. "Am I just useless?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An icy wave of dread gripped Ringo. He overheard George exposing his fears to Paul and John and had already forgotten about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course not," Ringo slowly began. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's just you lost an arm and I don't know how I'd live with myself if you ended up dead, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what he wanted to say. "Do you want to come with me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George's lips pressed against each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo forced a smile and tried to ignore the glares Paul and John sent him. John was internally screaming, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You better protect him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Paul was completely unreadable. It was almost a look of disappointment and jealousy, wrapped in a feigned apathy. It unnerved Ringo and he quickly turned around. George was already swimming ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you're not useless," Ringo said as soon as they were further from the other two. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So the octopus who almost died when he went on his own is going to go ahead," George said. "Is that it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— But no one's gonna try and eat me," he argued. "I'm poisonous!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can still die, though," George said. "I don't see why you get to go ahead while I have to stay back and hide."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just— I want to keep you safe," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Safety in numbers," George said. "Pack hunting. Wasn't this why we got together? Not for you to protect me, but for us to protect each other? Wasn't that the whole point of it all?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo's throat clenched up, his mouth impossibly dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost instinctively said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm sorry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wanted George to stay with him no matter what and he had already forced him away without knowing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I never thought about it from your perspective," Ringo said. "You're right. I didn't think— I've never been this close with someone, alright? And I didn't want to mess it up and make you think I didn't care like John," Ringo blurted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not a replacement for John," George said. "You two are different. Ringo… I can't help but think you've fallen in love with me only out of pity—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not true!" Ringo shouted. "Maybe that's a part of it, but there's more to it! You break your back helping strangers and you almost die and you're still smiling and living— and I'm a paranoid </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot </span>
  </em>
  <span>who's never done anything in his life and you're giving me everything you have! God, George, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one who doesn't deserve </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I've got nothing else. I just treated you like a normal person. That's all I ever did," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest was heaving, struggling to take in even breaths. He didn't notice how lightheaded he became until George silently drifted to Ringo. He outstretched his only arm and hugged Ringo, burying his head in the nape of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...how many times are we gonna have to do this? Having to cry to each other thinking we're not good enough?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As many times as it takes until we figure it out, I guess," Ringo said. "It's like what we said earlier: we're just two sad bastards."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Two sad, pathetic bastards," George echoed, exhaling deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed like that for a few more moments before slowly breaking away. They both had calmed down enough to keep going on, this time their hands locked together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coral and kelp were tranquil, no movement aside from gentle swaying. There was no sign of the silhouette George saw, nor the beast that attacked them the day prior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, Geo?" Ringo quietly asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhmm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could finish, he saw the stranger they were searching for darted out from behind a branching coral. But before Ringo could catch a good glimpse, George pounced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Less than five minutes ago, George was sad and hugging him and miserable. To see him dash forward and grab at the stranger was shocking. Even more so when George had his fangs pressed up against the new fish's jugular. If he squeezed any harder with his jaw, George would kill the man, who realized this. He jolted, spine straightening and arms held up in the universal sign of surrender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please don't—!" he called out in a shaky voice, accent vaguely… Scottish?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George glanced up and soon scurried back behind Ringo, suddenly cowering in fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fish climbed up from the rubble where George tackled him, feeling his neck. Red spots stood where George had almost bitten into him. His lengthy, wing-like fins flowed in the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...George? Tha' you?" he asked, voice quiet and full of disbelief. Ringo could feel George slowly poke his head out from behind his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Stu," he muttered.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Missing Pieces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so first of all, this has been the longest hiatus I've had when writing this fic. For a month, I felt my interest in the Beatles waning, and I began to fear I'd have to drop this story. I am happy to announce that I got back into the swing of things and hopefully won't let this fic die.</p><p>So with that, I hope you enjoy this chapter and what's to come!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George stared at Stu, arm tensed, fangs still bared. Ringo was floating in shock, at both George and the newcomer, the man he had been envisioning for days now. This was the fateful encounter, the moment where old friends would reconnect, yet Stu was petrified. The way his mouth gaped open, how his hands flew to the thin trail of blood leaking from his throat, it proved how mortified he was. It was a panic reaction, and once John had shouted, "Oi, you fucker!" it was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At once, Stu's tail began to thrash, forcing him not out but </span>
  <em>
    <span>up. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Long, wing-like fins unfurled, and before anyone could do a thing, he shot out of the surface of the water and out of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole interaction only lasted a few seconds, and it left Ringo perplexed. John had an odd swagger to him, angry yet confident, and George, he had sunken down to the ground and mindlessly played with a strand of orange kelp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was him, ain't it? No one else is as big a coward as that," John snorted. He crossed his arms as he sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I bit him," George admitted dejectedly. "He's not a coward for running away." John seemed to laugh at that, proud of George's bravado even if the younger man didn't share the sentiment. Ringo opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Paul pushed past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That was it? That's your old friend?" he said, voice tempered like a blade of steel. Paul was furious and it took all of his willpower to keep his rage from seeping into his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah," George weakly stuttered out. "That was him. He— he was always bad with confrontation—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That wasn't a confrontation," Paul spat. "That was a reunion. He ran away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi," John grumbled. "That's just how he is."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really? 'Cause to me—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Listen,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John said, jabbing Paul at his bruised ribs, "there are two types of fish in this world, predator, and prey. You don't get it 'cause you're big and fast, but prey types, if they make a mistake, they die. That's the rule."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You make it sound like it's beyond his control, like he's some kind of animal," Paul said back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aren't we all? Whenever George or Ringo left on their own, they came back missing limbs." John drew closer so that the warmth of his breath hit Paul's face. "That's the way things are, and you can't change that. You're getting mad at a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reflex.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul bit his lip, eyes darting from John to George. He then spoke, "Didn't he leave you guys all those years ago?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Ringo interrupted. "I don't know about Stu, but we don't have any food, we don't even have a place to stay. Even if it turns out he's the biggest asshole to walk— </span>
  <em>
    <span>swim </span>
  </em>
  <span>on this planet, we still need to, y'know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Need to what?" John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo sighed, then, in a quieter voice, "Kiss ass." John snorted, and Ringo questioned whether or not he had made a mistake.</span>
</p><p><span>"Alright," John said.</span> <span>"A test run, then? That okay with you, Paulie?"</span></p><p>
  <span>Paul shivered at the use of the pet name but nodded. "That's fine, but you don't know where he went. Flew off and all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Christ, how long have you known me?" John sneered. "I know exactly where he is, and it happens to be directly behind you." Ringo wanted to open his mouth to ask how he knew but stopped himself. John was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>shark </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Stu was </span>
  <em>
    <span>bleeding. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wondered how he ever got into university with how slow his brain was sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a quick gesture, John beckoned them over and swooped up George, bridal-style. "Hold on," John whispered to George in what Ringo could only describe as a sultry tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous. Ringo saw the pair and felt his heart thumping faster. The problem was that he didn't know who he was jealous of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could act on his strange feelings, Paul quickly followed suit, grabbing Ringo and letting all his tentacles splay all over. He jerked his head towards Julian and Ringo found himself playing dog-sitter once again as he clutched the tiny seal in his tentacles. For a moment, John's words echoed through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Prey.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Missing limbs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One mistake leads to death.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They were heavy words and Ringo would have thought the inevitable that he was a burden, that he was vulnerable and needed to be watched over. Instead, however, the only thoughts that crossed his head were gratitude. He was thankful that Paul and John watched over him, cared about him. Even now, his jealousy over John holding George was replaced with thoughts of Paul. He was warm and his grasp was firm and Ringo shamelessly indulged his thoughts. Paul was attractive, and if Ringo wasn't dating George, he could easily see him and the older man getting together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him wanted to feel bad for having such thoughts. Another part told him it was a simple fact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Paul and John carrying them, they tore through the water at a breakneck pace. The sea whipped past Ringo and he clutched Paul tighter in turn. John moved with ease, able to sniff where Stu had gone. It didn't matter how long Stu could remain airborne, John's sense of smell was far stronger than any bloodhound. The sunset corals receded and a large mass appeared in the distance. The ground sloped upwards, and it was reminiscent of the rocky hills back in the wastes, albeit filled with golden sand rather than grey stone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The terrain kept building up higher, dotted with specks of emerald green kelp. As the ground went up, Ringo quickly concluded that it was an island. Islands, a concept he was familiar with, were very different when viewed from underwater. They became mountains, tall and imposing, their tops inaccessible due to the barrier of the surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Found 'em," John huffed, stopping. Neither he nor Paul had broken a sweat in their sprint. That is if fish could sweat at all. The four of them drifted downward, closer to the base of the island. Embedded in the sandy slopes was a series of buildings, constructed out of rudimentary bricks, all in vibrant colors. Up the hill were large plots of land used for farms, with structures that looked like scaffolding and aqueducts. The whole setup was coated in vibrant plants, each blooming to create a full spectrum of color.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was only one figure outside the huts, a woman wearing a shawl made of cream fur. Her body was coated in a sleek layer of fur, unlike the scales Paul had. Based on her clawed toes and marbled skin, Ringo could only conclude that she was a leopard seal. She hovered, watching the four as they approached like a sentinel. As they came closer, suddenly, she gasped and a hand went to her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John? Is it really you?" she asked, face drawing up into a warm smile, far from Stu's expression of fear. With a flick of her tail, she came forward until she was a few feet from John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"D-damn," John stuttered. "It's been a while, huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes… you've gotten bigger," she remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It'd certainly be odd if I got smaller," John said back, and the two of them broke into a light chuckle. "Guys, this is Cyn," he said before turning back to her, "and these two are Ringo and Paul."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's very lovely to meet you," Cynthia said with a polite smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Likewise," Ringo hastily said, still somewhat in awe. Paul merely gave a curt nod. Julian seemed to perk up and Ringo let him out of his grasp to sniff the stranger, Cynthia not minding at all. Maybe it was a seal-kinship type of thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's Stu? We scared the hell out of him earlier," John said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, he's resting in there," Cynthia said, pointing at one of the larger huts, this one consisting of two floors. As she said that, faces peered out from behind the shadowy doorway. Cynthia beckoned them over, and one-by-one, fish came out to greet them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dolphin-girl with coral pink skin and makeup and a cuttlefish-man constantly shifting colors came from beyond the shadows. They approached hesitantly, gawking and staring, curious at the new specimens that came to visit. Then, the pink girl broke through and gave George a massive hug. She had to be Pattie, no doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George! Oh, it's been so long— I've missed you, we all thought you were dead and—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ended with a shriek, before scrambling out, "What happened to your arm?!" All eyes went to George's left, where his arm had been previously hidden behind Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, uh," George muttered. He stared at the wilting bandages like it was his first time seeing them. "There was an accident," he simply said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John didn't do that, did he?" the cuttlefish snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, piss off," John grumbled. "It was a group of fucking humans, </span>
  <em>
    <span>which </span>
  </em>
  <span>is why we're here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sort of understanding came over the group and pity gleamed in their eyes. George shrunk further behind Ringo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not a big deal, really," he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A-anyway, we've been traveling awhile," Ringo spoke up, "and we don't have any food or a place to stay and, well, we were hoping we could bunk with you guys?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was because of outstanding guilt, but Cynthia slowly nodded and led them towards one of the huts used for storage. Unlike John and George, who threw everything in a pile, the storage hut was neatly organized. There were rows upon rows of neatly labeled jars and bottles, each filled with colorful plants and powders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We keep our medicine and pigments here," Cynthia explained. "I'm afraid your pup can't sleep inside. I don't want him to break anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's fair," John said, petting Julian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll let you get settled in and bring you something to eat in a bit,” Cynthia called as she left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and Cyn?” John asked. “Thanks, for everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave a small bow and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was perfectly content to spend the rest of the day napping inside the shed, and Paul didn’t move or complain when John wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a lazy hug. They had been through a lot, and Ringo would be lying if he said the idea of lazing about wasn’t appealing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was slowly unraveling the bindings on his arm for the first time. As the flaky kelp peeled off, a gnarled scar showed itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it still hurt?” Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...not really,” was all George said, staring at the thing. The wound itself was incredibly messy, far from a clean cut. Gashes ran up George’s shoulder, pale against his armored skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mate, are you okay?” John groggily asked. “You seem out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just tired,” George said before glancing up at John. “You got room for one more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John nodded, and the three of them quickly bundled together. Wordlessly, Paul beckoned Ringo over with an open hand and soon it was the four of them, together and at peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest, John and Paul passed out and George quickly followed, leaving Ringo up and alone. Julian, tired of sniffing at jars, had gone out to explore, and Ringo didn't feel the urge to chase him. Truthfully, he wanted to go out too. Something was bothering him, the fact that Stu hadn't made an appearance yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slithered out of the hut and headed towards the biggest house. It had banners fluttering on its exterior, as well as embellished patterns in its bricks. Stu was an artist type, was he not? The painted house seemed demonstrative of that. He went through the main entryway—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>—And came face to face with a person he had never met. She had massive claws and pincers, a crab, coated in a layer of fine white fur. Her skin consisted of several plates of armored shell, her face resembling that of a mask. For a second, Ringo tensed, prepared to fight for his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are… Ringo, yes?" she asked, body eerily still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah! I didn't mean to intrude, I was just curious if Stu was alright—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you should leave," the woman interrupted. "Stu is fine, but his rest must not be disturbed." She raised her massive claws and Ringo could easily see one of them cutting his neck off. That, combined with her alien appearance and heavily accented speech, made Ringo quite afraid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Astrid? Who's that in there?" Stu suddenly called from within the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"One of John's," she called back. "The octopus."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let him in," Stu said, and the woman, Astrid, complied. She moved to the side, her numerous legs all silent. Inside, Stu was splayed out, eyes open yet dazed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey there," Ringo began. "I wanted to see if you were alright, and uh, sorry about the neck thing." Stu perked up at the sound, but his eyes refused to meet Ringo's. It was almost as if… "Are you blind?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only sometimes," Stu said. "I get these migraines, can barely move. You can understand why I ran away, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh— yeah, yeah, 'course," Ringo muttered. The entire room was dark, too. Take away the gigantic fins and Stu was an incredibly petite man. It made too much sense for him to be afraid. "I bet it's awful."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stu grunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, I know what you're thinking right now. You're thinking we're all traitors or something, leaving George and John behind."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's— that's not true," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, but I can tell. You're pretending it's okay because you need our food, and don't try to tell me otherwise."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And what of it? Are you gonna let us starve then?" Ringo gritted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, we're not savages," Stu said. "But we told John we were leaving. We told him it was dangerous. Before you go and point fingers, you need to hear our side of the story first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just wanted to see if you were alright, I'm not trying to pass blame or anything here," Ringo said. "I'm sorry about the migraines, but I really should be getting back to my friends." He turned to leave, but Stu spoke up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John was the one who did this to me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told him that we should go, that every time he went to the human world he was putting us all in danger, and he bashed my skull in for that. That's why we left. It wasn't because we're bad friends or whatever you've been thinking. It's because John was going to kill us all. And I told George that, too. He saw it all happen, he saw me bleeding out my head and still wanted to stay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't believe you," he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is true," Astrid remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't believe me, or you don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to?" Stu shot back. "Why would I lie about this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— I don't know, but John's a good person, he— he saved my life before," Ringo argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He had saved mine once, too," Stu said. "I'm telling you for your own good. It only takes a second for him to lose it, you should know that—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"—so if you know what's good for you, you'd avoid him," Stu finished, unfocused eyes looking, not at Ringo, but through him. "I don't want you to end up like me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that point, Ringo's whole body felt numb. Everything Stu said, it could have been the truth, but it was painful and he wished he had never left the shed. Just as he was warming up to John as well, why did everything have to be a tangled knot of emotions and pain? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo," Astrid hummed. "Let us leave him to rest."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right..." Ringo muttered, coming back to reality. Astrid led him back to the entrance of the house, gliding along the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do not..." she trailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Do not take his words too seriously," Astrid said. "What John did was an injustice, but I believe that people can change." The odd pincers on her face seemed to pull up and it took a moment for Ringo to realize she was smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," was all he could muster in turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned to the shed only to find a small basket placed outside, loaded with four cuts of meat and an assortment of vegetables and berries. Cynthia must have left it for them, and the ingredients probably came from the farm, too. These people were quite hospitable, something Ringo did not expect. It made what Stu said all the more conflicting. Should he ask John for the truth? And if it turned out John had assaulted him, what would he do? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>People can change, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but had John? And was he willing to give John a chance to begin with?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up the basket and headed inside. He'd simply ask in the morning. John, Paul, and George were all tightly coiled together, and Ringo had to wriggle his way in. He planted a soft kiss on George's cheek, a warm feeling washing over him when George smiled. Then, against his better judgment, Ringo did the same to Paul. He didn't know what possessed him to do so, but it felt wholly </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of consideration, he did the same to John. There was this funny feeling inside him, some odd blend of butterflies, satisfaction, and exhaustion. Ringo wriggled in between the three of them and let himself fall asleep, too tired to attempt to think anymore. All he knew was that right now, he felt like a puzzle piece fitted into its slot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would always be time to think about the things he needed to do. But now was not that time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Ringo let himself fall asleep, and once he was, John raised a hand to touch his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he slept better then than he had since he’d come here in that big, yellow submarine.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. The Accident Twelve Years Ago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Get up," was what Ringo awoke to. Two words, no context as to who was speaking. He winched open an eye to see the cuttlefish man floating above him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, bugger off, Pete," John grumbled. "Let us sleep."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've been napping for the past three hours," Pete said. "Sleep at night. Right now, you've got work to do." Groans rang out from around Ringo, and slowly, the four of them got up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, here's the rub. John, Paul?" he asked. "You two are gonna go hunting. Pinky, you're with me." With that, he quickly turned and left, leaving the four of them dumbfounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck that," John spat. "That's something I don't miss, being told what to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"You're getting fed by us!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pete shouted from outside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"You've got to pull your own weight!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John cursed under his breath and quickly shoveled in a cut of meat from the basket. "I'll cover for you, Paul," he said before leaving, all the while hissing: </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck you, Pete."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have fun," George murmured, voice heavy with sleep. Ringo could hear John arguing with Pete about whatever it was he was supposed to do. It was hard to hear them over the sound of George chewing his meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, does he want all of us to go?" Ringo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul took a portion of meat. "It's for Jude," he muttered, "and no, he just asked for you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo hummed, taking a portion of food with him. John was talking, not to Pete, but a jellyfish. His entire body was translucent and lace-like as if he was made of glass. The man backpedaled when Ringo arrived. If Stu was skittish, then this man was neurotic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry about Klaus and John," Pete grumbled. "You're going to be harvesting with me today."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo took stock of Pete. They both had tentacles and their skin could change color, but he felt inadequate next to the man. Pete had a handsome face, one that reminded Ringo of vintage movie stars. He didn't look like Ringo, with his too-big nose and too-small jaw. He then noticed a small slug perched on Pete's shoulder, blue with stripes of yellow and white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see you staring," Pete remarked. "This here is Jimmie." He picked the slug up and put him on Ringo's shoulder, and Jimmie quickly began to crawl over Ringo, as fast as a slug could, anyhow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, he seems friendly," Ringo commented, petting Jimmie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s actually trying to eat you right now,” Pete snorted, “but he can’t harm you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, Pete took his pet back and led Ringo towards the scaffolded farms. There was a series of levels, each with a different kind of crop. Large baskets stood at the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So here’s the job. You see those berries on the second level? We’re gonna pluck them and fill up two of the baskets,” Pete said. “That’s all for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo hummed and experimentally tugged at one of the vines. Berries, plump and red, sat waiting to be plucked, but Ringo found it wouldn’t be that simple. The stalks and leaves of the crop were like hard steel, and he found himself already cutting his hand on the sharp leaves of the plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should’ve told you about that,” Pete said, “sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Ringo hummed. He knew the cut would heal without much fuss. If he grabbed the berries by the stalk and twisted them, they popped off a little easier and soon he fell into a rhythm. Pete made no small talk, only focusing on his task with machine-like efficiency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When one of the baskets was filled up halfway, Ringo decided he didn’t like the quiet anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a nice setup you’ve got here,” he said. “The farms and the crops and stuff, it’s like a real little village.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you think this is a village, then you’ve been living under a rock,” Pete remarked. “We live pretty small if that makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess, but I haven’t seen a lot of civilization before. It was just John and George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I pity ya,” Pete said. “Those two would always sneak out of work and go shag in some field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo’s stomach did an odd flip. “Huh,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, lazy as all hell. The only good thing was that John was tough and scared off anyone who’d try to mess with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo swallowed. From the way Pete spoke of John, he didn’t appear to detest the man, but his opinion didn’t seem too fond either. “Hey, speaking of John… Did he actually— y’know, hurt Stu?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete paused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re his lover, right?” Pete mentioned. “Why don’t you ask John straight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not— I mean, I’m with George!” Ringo argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...and John, and Paul…?” Pete questioned, one eyebrow arched up. “I was under the impression that you four were a unit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but not like that—” Ringo said. “We just sleep together, we don’t—” Ringo hastened to say before realizing he was just digging his own grave. “That’s beside the point! I’m not going to ask John if he bashed his friend’s skull in!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, Pete was laughing out loud, having forgotten about the baskets of fruit. “Sure, Rings, whatever you say,” he said with a sing-song voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, just tell me what happened,” Ringo begged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” came Pete’s simple reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m being serious here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I am too! I wasn’t there, how would I know what went down? As far as I know, the only witness was George, and he never said anything about the whole ordeal,” Pete said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what about Stu’s migraines?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again, I don’t know. He’s a private guy. He’s not the type to lie, though. I look at it this way: John’s never done any personal wrong by me, so he’s okay.” Pete picked up a stretch of vine and got back to plucking. “You just gotta get the answer from the source.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… I don’t want to. I’m scared,” Ringo admitted. “ ‘Cause if he says that he did, what am I supposed to do? Forgive him? Run away? Denounce him? What if he lies, what if he’s really— really,” Ringo sighed. His voice had begun to tremble. “I don’t want to think about the possibility that he’s a bad person. I don’t want to think that coming here with him was a mistake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, even if he did, does that make him a bad person? Do you think John runs around beating people up for fun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘Cause even if you’re not his mate, you’re still his mate, if that makes sense. You know him. Do you think he’s a good person?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo thought about it for a moment. “He’s… really hurtful at times. George stayed behind for him and he treated George like he— like he didn’t exist at all. I used to think he was such an asshole, but there were times where he cared about me and I thought...” Ringo trailed. “He’s vulnerable and so scared of being alone, and I think he’s starting to realize that, do something about that. I thought he was getting better but then this all comes along and I just don’t know anymore,” he said. “I’m sorry for unloading all this on you, I just don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh, you can start by helping me out with the berries,” Pete hesitantly said. “And then you should probably talk to John about it all. I know you’re scared but it’s best if you do it now instead of letting it build up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo nodded, not finding the energy to speak. He had to talk to John; there was no other way about it. Thinking about it just made him anxious, so Ringo poured all his concentration into his berry picking. It seemed like the two baskets filled up far faster than he would have liked. Pete gave him a thumbs-up and hauled them out to one of the houses, leaving Ringo alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oddly enough, the shed was empty when Ringo returned. George was gone, as were Paul and Julian. Ringo wanted to talk to one of them about his thoughts but he knew he was stalling. John wasn't going to tell him the truth unless he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and John were mates, were they not? That meant he shouldn't be afraid of John. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know this guy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know he's never tried to hurt you. He screamed and shouted but never tried to harm you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringsy," a voice called out from behind. It was now or never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, John," Ringo greeted. He noticed a plate of shell tucked under his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hunting went well," John commented. "The guy was big and armored but slow as all hell. Never stood a chance," John remarked, somewhat jovial. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, uh, John?" Ringo asked. "Can we talk?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, what about?" John smirked before realizing that Ringo was dead serious. His smile faded and his cheeriness was replaced with tension. Nervousness? No, John wouldn't— "Is this about Stu?" he quietly asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. He told me what happened, and, well, I want to know if it's true or not," Ringo said. John fidgeted, clutching the armored plate like a shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was..." John began, "shortly after my Mum died. I was upset and we got into a fight and— I hit him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's what Stu said as well," Ringo muttered. "I didn't want to believe it, but..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I— I messed up," John said. "I don't have an excuse. I should've pieced it together that that was why they all left." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo did not expect John to be so sincere, but when he read John's expression, all he could see was fear. He was searching Ringo's face, hoping for something. That’s when Ringo realized:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>John was afraid.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>John was afraid of Ringo's reaction.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," John said. "Please, Ringo, I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...you should apologize to Stu," Ringo found himself saying. The words felt distant as they came from his mouth. "I'm not, I'm not the one you need to tell this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're right," John said, voice growing numb. He turned, and Ringo spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't hate you," Ringo said. "I know that it happened at the lowest point of your life. And I know—" his voice cracked “—that you’d never do it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John looked at Ringo, no longer afraid but full of something else, something indescribably dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” John said. Silently, he left, and Ringo was once again by himself. He saw John head towards Stu’s home, but couldn’t muster up the nerve to say anything. He had asked, so why did it feel like he made a mistake? He went back to the shed, praying that George was there because right now he wanted someone to hold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shed was still empty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo went searching but ended up losing focus and wandering around for a while. He almost felt afraid, being unable to find his friends. They had to have been somewhere around, yet there was no sign of them at all. All the houses were dark, all the roads empty. He made his way back to the shed after a while, planning to retire early for the night when a sharp knock jolted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve prepared dinner,” Cynthia hummed as she knocked on the doorway. “We’re waiting for you.” She smiled warmly, and thoughts of a caring grandmother came to mind. Not that Ringo would compare her to an old lady, that would be rude. He nodded and let her lead him outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went out and around the storage hut, making their way to a sort of plaza. The ground was tiled with a mosaic, Stu or Klaus's doing, no doubt, and a statue stood proudly behind it. The sculpture was of some kind of woman, oddly familiar yet alien. On the tiling was everyone gathered in a circle. Stu was looking better than earlier, flanked by Astrid and Klaus. Opposite them were George and Paul, with a very obvious gap for Ringo between them. In the center was a large beige cloth, embroidered at the edges, coated with a massive display of food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We thought," Stu began, "that a feast was in order, as a sign of goodwill," he explained. Ringo noted that John was nowhere to be seen, but he didn't comment. Stu didn't look upset or distraught.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where were you?" Paul whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, we were looking for yeh!" George laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I should say the same thing to you," Ringo said back, taking his seat. The feast looked divine, full of cuts of fish, each crusted with herbs. Cynthia moved to serve everyone a portion, and upon closer inspection, Ringo saw that they were cooked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How'd you cook these?" Ringo had to ask. "They look delicious."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cynthia gave a smile and pointed up the slope of the island. "I go to the surface and do it. The sun hits the rocks and they get burning hot around noon," she hummed as she placed a large filet in front of Paul. "And I let them roast over the course of the day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aren't you worried about birds trying to steal your food?" Paul asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are birds?" Pete asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know," Ringo said, putting his hands together and flapping his fingers like wings. "Flying animals."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you mean wyverns," Stu hummed, and Ringo did a double-take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at his dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" he asked again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The food was finished being served, a small medley of fruit next to the steaks. Ringo spotted some of the berries he had harvested earlier mixed among them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope you all enjoy," Cynthia hummed, and she and her friends did a sort of motion that was a combination of bowing and praying. Paul imitated them, and Ringo clumsily followed. Everyone had begun to dig in, yet Paul remained still, staring at his portion. Then, deliberately, he took a chunk of meat and slowly chewed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was because the feast was a peace offering, maybe it was Paul was being polite. Ringo didn't know, but he didn't say anything. It would be wrong to congratulate Paul on abandoning his vegetarianism, but it wouldn't be right to scold him either. He was simply changing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for the meal," Paul said to the circle. He was eating at a sluggish pace, as opposed to George, who was wolfing down the tender filet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, manners!" Pattie admonished, lightly hitting him in the arm. When Ringo turned his head, he saw his boyfriend—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>—Boyfriend! </span>
  </em>
  <span>That word made him so happy— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>—shoving the entire cut of meat down his throat at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George spat out his half-eaten portion and covered his mouth, mortified, no doubt, at being called out on his sloppiness. Compared to the rest of them, he did eat like an animal, quickly shoveling down every scrap of meat he got. Then, Ringo noticed that there was more to it than that. George was different. He was bonier, due to a lack of available food, but also taller. His frame made Pattie and the others look petite by comparison. Not to mention the fangs and claws, features that John and George had that none of these other fish did. Ringo cast a glance at his own fingernails; he didn’t remember having claws when he first woke up underwater, but they had definitely grown in. It was as if they were savages, more beast-like than human. They didn’t have clothes, they didn’t farm or use tools— were the physical alterations a manifestation of that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, all the peering eyes unnerved Ringo. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is why they left, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ringo realized. It was because John hit Stu. It was because they were removed from society. It was because there was another shark in the abyss, and whenever these people looked at John, all they could see was that same gleaming abomination, that same monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's John?" Ringo asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, he asked if there was any more monster hunting that needed to be done," Stu said. "I told him he'd miss dinner but he was adamant about it. Left to go to the bloom."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul choked on his food and spat it out. He had only gotten through half of the fish. "The bloom? That place with the algae and the spores?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck," was all Ringo could say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is wrong?" Astrid asked, standing to rise to her full height.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing, just worried my friend's gonna get eviscerated, no big deal! </span>
  </em>
  <span>If Ringo had known that making John apologize would turn the man suicidal, he would have kept his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That blue bastard's gonna kill him," Paul whispered. "I'm fast, I'll go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, what's—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My apologies," Paul said, rising, "but I have to go. I won't be able to sleep unless I know John is safe." He looked down at Ringo and George. "Go to sleep, yeah? I'll be back in the morning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Be careful," George muttered. "Please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul gave him a firm nod, before stating, "I've no intention of dying." Then, quietly, "not anymore." With that, he gave one last bow and quickly turned to leave. George reached out to hold Ringo's hand, and they spent the rest of the night like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feast truly was wonderful, a fact Ringo expressed to Cynthia a total of five times before turning in for the night. The spread was cleaned up by Pete, who took the cloth, carried it away, and dumped the contents into a sort of compost bin. Julian kept sniffing at the bin, whimpering for some scraps which Pete easily supplied. Even after that, the pup kept crying, soon turning to full howling. He sensed that John was away, and ever since they had rescued him, he never left John's side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you think they're gonna be alright?" George quietly asked that night, curling up in Ringo's grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope so," was all Ringo could say. "They know what to expect. I believe in them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to believe in them, too," George said. "Rings, I— I love them. I couldn't handle it if something happened."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me too," he said. "It's all my fault."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George froze and looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I asked him about what happened to Stu," Ringo admitted. "I told him to apologize."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ringo… that's," George paused. "That was in the past."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I heard you were the only witness," Ringo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then what happened?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," George began, "his mother got harpooned and dragged away, and John spent every day going to the gate. Stu thought he was going there to kill humans, for revenge, blew up in his face."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're endangerin' us all! Why don't you see that!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"And John, he was just, just keeping watch. He was paranoid, couldn't stay away from the tunnels for a second. He was afraid of those humans coming back and finishing them all off. He never told them that, only me."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Say something, you cunt! Stop fucking staring at me and say something, dammit!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"It wasn't just Stu who was mad, but he was the only one gutsy enough to confront John. They fought, started hitting each other, and then—"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know you miss your mother, but she's gone, Lennon! There's nothing you can—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"And then John lost it. He was upset. We all were. I should have known it had to do something with Stu, 'cause he was so odd when he left. Said it was just a short walk, but he was so nervous. Looked like a lost little kid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"George, don't blame yourself," Ringo said. "I was the one who brought it up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know. And when John comes back, I'll beat him up. That's a promise." George stretched out and coiled tighter in Ringo's grasp. "We'll be back together soon enough."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Ringo hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘Cause the four of us, we gotta stick together,” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ringo finally admitted to himself, that yes, he wanted John back. He wanted Paul back. That they were a band, bounded not by blood but by love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And somehow, that gave him the confidence to believe in their safe return.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. The Emperor: Part Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for self-harm in this chapter</p><p>I also tried to get some formatting going here with font size but it was a struggle. ao3 didn't want to do it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>He remembers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He remembers being a child, with his two parents. They were stern and cold at times, but they had loved each other at one point, enough to have a kid of their own. That had to have been the case, for when his father left, his mother sobbed into the night, wailing at how cruel the world was to her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For John, that was one of his earliest memories. Since that point, he had to learn self-sufficiency. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn't blame his mother, for he loved her, but sometimes he wished it wasn't that way. Maybe he wouldn't have turned out so rotten if his father never left to crawl around the bottom of the sea. Maybe if he didn't have to watch his mother get stabbed with dozens of harpoons and be dragged away from him screaming and thrashing, he wouldn't be so deplorable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe it was just that John was broken, has been, since the moment he was born, and everyone left, not because of his parents, but because of him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>John wasn't one to get emotional. He was usually full of red-hot anger, but never </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Never sorrow, or fear, or regret. He’d never felt as sick as he did at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came to Stu, he was shocked. Stu tried to explain that his outburst at Ringo was twelve years of bitterness being spat out, that it had annoyed him to see John happy, that it was wrong of him. So John, sensing that Stu wouldn't accept his apology, offered to do work as if it was a debt. But Stu was adamant that there was nothing, so John made a target. There was a dangerous man in the bloom, and sharks were good at killing. Stu said not to bother, but John was already gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without having to compensate for George or Ringo, he hurtled away from the village far quicker than when he arrived. This was what he was built for; charging and attacking. All the minute details, the social niceties, the grace of it all, John was not made for that. He was brute force, blunt and indiscriminate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he'd do what raw power was good for and </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the threat gone, they would see John as a protector, not a beast, and everything would be better for them. Ringo said he didn't hate John, but he knew better. Everyone always minced their words in front of John, the only exception being Stu twelve years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doubted Stu would ever be that upfront again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he swam, he saw a flicker of a shadow on the edges of his retinas. He halted, spun around, wondering who or what was chasing him. The haziness still clung to his peripheral, but there was nothing of note to see. Shrugging, he pushed forward again. The shadowy afterimages appeared once more, but John ignored it. As he surged through the water, the open cut on his shoulder ached from the seawater blasting into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The last time you fought that blue bastard, he almost killed you! What makes you think this time'll be any different?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"This time," John hissed, "I know what to expect." He left it at that because knowing was half the battle. At least, that's what Paul had said one night, an idiom that was unfamiliar to John yet fitting enough. He knew the blue meanie was fast, so all he had to do was take a hit or two and grab those hammer-like claws so he can't use them anymore. John had taken down bigger fish before; it would be effortless once those claws were out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete had said once that keeping John around was a good deal. He was a pragmatic sort of person and saw the utility of keeping a shark around. Feed John in exchange for his protection, like he was a glorified guard dog. At least guard dogs were useful. Perhaps that's why he got along so well with Julian: they were both dogs and both infantile children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, his thoughts were a mess. It wouldn't be too late to head back now, Stu had mentioned a feast…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John slapped himself. What a fool he was! He would not come back empty-handed. He was worth having around, and killing this asshole was the quickest way to prove it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Johnny boy, murdering a crazy, wild hermit will make everyone see you as a friend!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Ain’t that right?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut the fuck up," John growled as he approached the recognizable mass of sickly green vegetation. The waters were hazy and thick, cloyed with spores and algae. Even if his target was a bright, neon blue, there was no way for John to easily spot him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doubt began to bubble up, small sparks of anxiety churning in John's stomach. The predator out here could see well through the murk while John could not. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he assured himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can smell him first. </span>
  </em>
  <span>With that, John took a deep whiff, trying to taste salt or skin or shell. There was nothing aside from the nauseating scent of rotting plant matter, so he cautiously proceeded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't pay much heed to the bodies; they still dangled, dead and useless. John couldn't even get any meat off of the carcasses if he wanted. Every one of them was no more than a pulpy mess. He spared no more thought on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thu‐ump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John paused. That was a new sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thu‐ump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It came from below, and John pressed his head against the soft Earth, straining to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thu‐ump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a heartbeat, he realized. But why was it in the ground? Without hesitation, John clawed at the moss, ripping through the spongy surface. Was the blue fucker hiding underground? With a hoarse growl, John began to punch at the ground, pummeling whatever dared laid wait below.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands hit flesh, the distinctive sound of bone snapping ringing out. John scrambled to clear out the rest of the sludge coating the body beneath him, the thumping getting louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What laid there was an all-too-familiar face. One that was his own, marred with stitches and scars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John screamed, threw himself as far as he could away from the thing, and glared at it. The body had vanished, leaving nothing but upturned moss.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're losing your mind, now! Ain't that just swell, Johnny-boy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shivered. It felt like the temperate air turned frigid.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, come now, don't be so </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>cold!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who's fucking there?!" John screamed, twisting to scan the waters around him. There was no one, nor any scents either.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You're seeing and hearing things now. Don't you think it's time you took a break? What if there had been someone under you, eh, Johnny-boy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was his mind playing tricks on him? Or was this the manifestation of his self-loathing, that his own mind was belittling him? John's stomach churned and he moved to leave— he had wasted far too much time here—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, but you can't! Going back would prove you're unreliable. Not to mention, you'd have to make it up to Ringo and the others for worrying them so. You know they're coming to get you—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John shook his head. No, they weren't. There was no reason to believe they ever would. John didn't tell them he left so by the time they noticed, he'd already be finished with hunting, hoisting the shrimpy freak over one shoulder. His teeth ached, his jaw tensed. He was missing dinner now and felt the distant pangs of hunger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trudged through the murky forest, pushing his thoughts to the side. Never good with thinking, he was. Always about doing instead. That was one of his many issues— well, it was never really an issue before. Once two newcomers entered into his life, throwing tantrums and vanishing brought scowls and disapproval. John could spend all day meandering and find that George wouldn't have missed him at all with his new friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was easily replaceable, he was easily missed. After all, Ringo never turned away his friends, and Paul always landed a patient ear to those around him. What did John offer aside from harsh glares and tepid silence? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, after he took care of this hunt, he'd say with certainty that he offered protection. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I just want to feel loved, like I did before everyone left.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn't noticed the thumping had continued, delving deeper into the grotesque jungle. John flinched at every body he saw, for he knew that he was going to mistake his target for one of them. The only real physical feature he had to go off of was the eyes. The blue man had eyes the size of fists, massive and reflective. They were like two moons. No one around him had those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After circling through the entire bloom and nothing to show for it, John had to stop. It was a fool's errand, a complete waste of time. His mouth started to hurt, teeth growing sore. They usually didn't, for John gnawed on something, usually meat or bone, frequently. Out here, in the green haze, John became painfully aware that his stomach was empty. The snack Cynthia had brought was too minuscule to properly tide him over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain surged, and John quickly searched for a rock or something equally hard to chew on. There was a low buzz emanating from the base of his skull, and his vision had blurred considerably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cold and confused and hungry and he looked down at the palms of his hands and something flickered in his head. His fingertips, they would do. John raised them to his gaping mouth and began to gnaw on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went from quick nibbling to full chewing, ripping apart the skin and letting blood flow out. The scent of blood was a comforting one, enough to dull out the pain from his hands. It was warm, too, and John hummed as he suckled at the wounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was wrong with him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt disgusted with himself yet kept biting at his fingers, cutting to the bone. It hurt, and John curled up and sank to the ground, sucking on his bleeding fingertips. He ended up falling into the same hole he had dug out, not knowing when he had come to it. There was something wrong with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the mossy grave engulfed him, John let out a silent wail. He just wanted his fucking mother back. She didn't have to die. Dad didn't have to leave. His friends didn't have to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was what he deserved, didn't he? He, who had been nothing but cruel and selfish didn't deserve the love of those around him. And now he was writhing in a hole in the ground, alone, eating himself, and crying for his mother. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, yet begged for someone to come, someone to see how pathetic he truly was and pity his soul. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to prove to Stu he wasn't a violent brute by murdering another man— he wanted to prove he was strong by running away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a fool, what a fool!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nerves in his fingers were shot, stinging, just like his shoulder was. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A beast! There's a terrible beast in the bloom and it was a shark by the name of Johnny! Just like dear old Dad! Ahahahaha!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>John closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A fool!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An insurmountable— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Abominable—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inconsolable— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unintelligible— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Moronic fool!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, yes, that was all correct. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Past the point of saving— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your father would be proud—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s waiting for you—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can feel happy again— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Doing what you do best— </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, yes, of course, of course…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...ohn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should just stay still, perhaps bury himself in deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And dream, dream of a place where they never left, where they all waited for him— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John froze. There was no one peering down at him, yet someone out there—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cunt, you’re scaring us all! John!” Paul cried out. “Say something, dammit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>What are you going to do? Come crying to him, needing him to save you like some child?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All you do is hurt those around you! What makes you think this is any different?!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just a burden, you are, all you want is to crawl back to the womb.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wasting his time with your foolishness and naivety? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>John! You’re making a mistake!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know he doesn’t care.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t go to him!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You fool!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>John!</em>
</p><p>
  <span>“...aul...?” John hoarsely called out. “P-aul?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you?” Paul called out again. John tried to claw out of the hole he made but his ruined fingertips stung and bled. He hissed and worked through the pain, grasping at the moss and murk until he saw a glint of silver. He wailed again, unable to come up with any words. Paul darted over as soon as he did, already holding John’s wrecked hands and looking him in the eyes, silently asking what happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John had half a mind to lie, to protect the remnants of his shattered ego, yet couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did this,” John said. “I fuckin’— couldn’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” With no more energy, John threw himself on Paul, burying his head into his neck and staying there, his useless, broken fingertips limping hanging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long did they stay like that, in those dangerous waters? John couldn’t stop grieving, trembling as Paul held him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” John whimpered. “You can— you can leave me, and I won’t, won’t blame you— It’s alright—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you,” Paul whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t, I don’t deserve it—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what it feels like,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does?” John spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To hate yourself,” Paul muttered. “To think that everyone around you is lying when they say they care. To think that they would be happier with you gone. I want you to know that you’re not alone in this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John swallowed down the mucus building in the back of his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...George and Ringo are better at this type of stuff,” Paul admitted, “but we can figure it out. If you’d let us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Why?” was all John could ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul’s face shifted, from one of concern and darkness to an almost-wistfulness. There was a faint glimmer in his eyes, a spark he had never seen before. “Do I need a reason?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not wanting to be treated like shit,” John spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How bad is your eyesight?” Paul asked. “I genuinely want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s actually really shitty,” John admitted. “I bet you didn’t know that, bet I lied about it before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of figured, ‘cause the only person who doesn’t see your worth is yourself. When have we said you weren’t worth it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never, ‘cause I’m a fuckin’ shark and you’re all scared shitless. I know you’ve talked behind my back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re brothers, aren’t we? We didn’t come this far to lie to each other. You know this; you just don’t want to admit it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… You think so? You really think that?” John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it for a fact,” Paul said. “...Now, we could stay here and keep talking, but there’s someone here who tried to kill us. It’s no slight against you, but we should move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He never showed up,” John mumbled. “Just left me to walk in circles and cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got a small smile out of Paul, who placed John’s arm on his shoulder and began to lead him out. Slowly, they trudged out, John listening to Paul’s soft breathing. His vision felt like it was clearing, but it was as if all his energy was sapped. They drifted along in silence, which was helpful given John’s headache. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a whine and held Paul tighter, muttering, "thanks." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they left the bloom and crossed over back to the sunset corals, Paul had picked up the pace so that they were moving at the light saunter. It had to have been sometime past midnight, although it was still dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, can you keep quiet about what happened? I don't want them to worry. I don't want Ringo to think it's his fault."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded, "I think that might be for the best."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't have them thinking I've gone soft," John whispered, unconvinced. He knew that was a lie, a show of bravado, but Paul didn't comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kept on, the only sound being the flow of the currents around them and the crashing of waves on the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul?" John asked, gazing at the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you love me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul paused, drawing still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't trust myself enough to answer that," he said. "I don't think I'm ready for a commitment like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's— that's fair."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about you? Do you love me?" Paul asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John thought about it for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If I love you, then I love George and Ringo too," he said. " 'Cause I don't think I know what love is. All I know is that my mind's telling me to stay with you three. Won't shut up sometimes," he weakly chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul hummed as he swam along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I guess I'm… mostly the same. Being with you three, it's different than with Lin, but I've been thinking that maybe it's because… because I'm different."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've only known you for a short bit and I can say that's true," John mused. "Alright, one more question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shoot," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If I kissed you, would you be disgusted? Would you pull away or kiss back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul pulled a hand to his chin, rubbing at the stubble that started to grow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," he said. "I'd suppose you'd have to give us a kiss to find out," he said as a lopsided grin wormed its way onto his face. He cocked his head, and John straightened up, heart palpitating, breath heavy. He leaned in, closed his eyes, and tasted Paul, finding the answer to his question all the while. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. The Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Heat pooled in Paul's belly as he felt John's calloused hands run all over him, the pain of his bleeding fingertips forgotten. Paul had to admit; it was hard to keep his thoughts focused on </span>
  <em>
    <span>important things, </span>
  </em>
  <span>like where the blue man had gone, or what George and Ringo were thinking. John was, as Paul expected, messy and chaotic. Their teeth clacked when John threw himself on Paul, their bodies colliding. Someone moaned, Paul thought it was both of them, and John began to rut, rhythmically grinding against Paul's groin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not the most dignified Paul had been, but his animal instincts were yelling at him to reciprocate, and soon everything else droned out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent a good moment thrashing together, John panting and swearing during its entirety, before finishing with a tense grunt and a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" John hummed as he crawled on top of Paul, almost like an overgrown housecat. Paul moved his arms to partially hold John in his lap, and he soon quickly realized that he rather liked it. He didn't want to talk at the moment, just stay there with John, breathing in unity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y'know, that whole bit about us being brothers, does that mean us fucking was incest?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul sighed. Count it on John to ruin the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It," Paul stressed the first syllable, "was not incest, and I'd rather you never assaulted my consciousness with that thought." John snorted before flipping his body over to make eye contact with Paul. He experimentally rocked back and forth over Paul's crotch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you ever tell Ringo?" John then asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Hell no," Paul muttered in turn. "Break his little heart. I don't think he and George..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fucked their brains out?" John bluntly asked. "I know they didn't. Hell, I think Ringo's the only one of us who hasn't fucked. Shame too, George is really," he paused. "Well, he's nothing short of handsome."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Agreed," Paul hummed. "So you and Geo, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aye, back around sixteen years? Been a while. Truth be told, I'm worried if we did it again, I'd snap him in half. It's not that he lost weight or anything, just that I got fatter."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That got a small snort out of Paul. "I think you're incredibly sexy," he said, the odd word he chose to use getting John to do a double-take.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pardon?" John asked, finding it impossible to believe that Paul of all people, would compliment him of all people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ain't repeating myself," Paul huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...huh," John hummed, trying not to let it show just how much the compliment affected him. He had been used to so many remarks about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>big </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was, how much his muscles </span>
  <em>
    <span>bulged, </span>
  </em>
  <span>how </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimidating </span>
  </em>
  <span>he looked. Most of it had come from his own head, but it was starting to fade away. His brain was sleepy, and everything soaked into it like a massive sponge. "You wanna head back?" John asked, and was happy when Paul shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just a couple minutes more."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had to eventually get moving, making small talk and jokes, as if John hadn't been crying and suckling at his fingers less than an hour before. The sun had begun to rise, and John's spirits came with it, already moving on. Paul wanted to carry on with him, trying not to think about the fact that the two times he has sex as a fish, they were both born from depression and self-loathing. It might have been a biological drive, to distract his mind from mental anguish, but it was certainly never this way with Linda. Yet another change he'd have to get used to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul thought back to yesterday, before the feast. He had asked Cynthia, lovely woman, she was, about his dietary restrictions, and she seemed shocked at the thought. That had dashed any hopes Paul may have had about his vegetarianism. He found at the feast he couldn't turn down the meal prepared for him, and another part knew he had to eat it if he wanted to stop feeling so awful. In the corner of his vision, he knew Ringo was staring, processing this change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like Linda would understand, and that gave him enough confidence in his decisions. For once, Paul felt like he was in control of his world, not the other way around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two fell into an easy silence as they strolled along the seabed. John, despite his disheveled appearance, was still tired and sore and starving, and as his hunger grew, so did his anguish. He was still hurting, they all were to an extent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the small settlement came into view, Paul felt as though something was off. The buildings were all still vibrant and embellished, everything in its right place, yet it was still. No one was in sight, and oddly, the brilliant banners were missing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something's wrong," John snarled, echoing Paul's unease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You smell something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, actually," John said, tapping the side of his nose. "I can't smell a single person at all, like they all packed up and moved out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit," Paul murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can say that again. None of them are fighters, which means either they're having a field trip, or something nasty came out. There's this weird, green scent in the air, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded and slowly crept forward, leaning to keep his body parallel and flush against the ground. It wasn't like them, or George and Ringo at the least, to leave without a word. They had all learned firsthand that traveling alone was a death sentence, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, Paul!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John suddenly hissed, pulling him down so that both of them were flat against the sand. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>It's him!</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn't have to look, for there was only one possibility. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>The blue guy?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Paul asked, imitating the stranger's hammer claws with his hands. John nodded, and Paul wanted to curse again. He raised his head as much as he dared and scanned for the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't hard to spot, and Paul felt confident that he had identified his gender correctly. Under all the shells and pincers and legs, the man had an awkward and lanky build. Outside of the murky bloom, the blue shell of the man almost glowed like a neon sign back on Earth. As Paul's gaze trailed down the man's back, the brilliant blue transitioned into almost every color of the rainbow, his flamboyant appearance clashing with how nervously he moved. He looked like an alien who had accidentally landed on the wrong planet. He kept talking to himself, making a </span>
  <em>
    <span>kkkk, kkkk, kkkk, </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound, once that stuttered like a broken record. The hammer-claws, very clearly bright orange, were clutching something small, trembling all the while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Can't believe this is the guy who beat our asses back then,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man, his species something Paul would have to ask Ringo about later, dropped the small thing he was clutching.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Ahh, no, no, nnnnot now," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he muttered as he tried to pick up the fragile item. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Kkkk, kkkk, kkkep—"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Didn't know he could talk,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" John muttered, but Paul planted a hand over his mouth. There was something familiar about this man, he realized. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Kkkkk… Keptaine," </span>
  </em>
  <span>the man moaned again. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kaptain, where, where are you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh shit. Ignoring the look of raw confusion John gave, Paul rose as slowly as he could. Could it be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C-captain?" the man asked. "Captain McC—" he froze, shaking again as he tried to choke out the syllables. "Mc-C-C-Ca— Car," he dropped the item, a pair of glasses Paul noted, and muttered, "—Cartney!" He scrambled to pick up the spectacles, tenderly holding the thick frames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's me," Paul said. "Now, is that you..." he paused to think of the correct name, "Mr. Taylor?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man— Alistair? froze. Then, a smile began to form, showing off rows of pincers and fangs, and he quickly began to circle Paul in a blur, moving so fast he turned into a multicolored ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Captain! Oh, Captain! You remembered! </span>
  <em>
    <span>I remember!</span>
  </em>
  <span> I thought for sure it was all a dream, a f-f-fugue, a haze, a curse, a trip— Oh, to be here again, to be back!" Paul noted that as he spoke, his accent came back, posh and British, and remarkably nostalgic for Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the fuck!" John howled. "That fucker tried to kill us!" he spat as he barreled towards Paul, putting an end to Alistair's scrambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anthropisces,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Alistair suddenly said. "A native! A living, breathing—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <b>Hey!</b>
  <span>" Paul suddenly hollered. He could feel John's temper peak, and if Alistair had let on that they were human—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"John, this is Al, he's an old friend," Paul lied. "Old </span>
  <em>
    <span>merman </span>
  </em>
  <span>buddies, him and I, can you give him some space?" This did nothing to curb John's wrath, but now he was full of suspicion at Paul. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You better explain this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he gritted out just under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apologies, apologies, oh," Alistair muttered. "I was just so overcome, oh, I do hope you forgive me," he rambled, gaining back much of the personality Paul recalled him having. Now that he wasn't trembling with anxiety or trying to kill them, Paul noted how he resembled his human counterpart. The eyes that once wore those bulky glasses had turned into two large, pale orbs. Colored filaments grew out of the sides of his head, an imitation of his old sideburns. His head looked to be the same shape, slightly elongated as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright," Paul said. "But what happened to you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose..." he trailed, eyeing John. "There was a large storm," he settled on. "And we woke up together. Along with me were Mal, and Neil. The three students together, oddly enough. But then, then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ttthhhhhen,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" he stuttered again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if a switch had been flipped, and soon Alistair reverted to his neurotic form again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"The specter, specter, he came. Eptatretus deani," </span>
  </em>
  <span>he murmured. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Oh, the specter, the specter..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Al!" Paul barked, but he didn't respond. "Richard's here with us, you remember him, don't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Rrrrrrrritchie?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alistair wheezed out and quickly sat up. "Yes, yes, poor Richard, trapped here. Many times I had thought that death would have been a better fate than </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but alas. For all my struggle, I can only imagine how the fragile Richard would have suffered."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Paul thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He has a boyfriend, you know. Doing quite well for himself, actually," Paul said deadpan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair paused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps I was too hasty in my dismissal of his capabilities," he amended. "Where was I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The ghost," John grumbled, very much grumpy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ghost? I don't remember a… Right. We were attacked, got split up. I don't know where those two went, but I suppose I sort of became lost. I already was, in a physical sense, but in my mind, I doubt you'd understand, I believe I used the word 'fugue'? Yes, that's what it was like. Like this dreadful music had filled my skull and I could not think in sentences anymore, just impulses, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>safety, food, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>danger. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I tried to fight it, but it felt wrong, like I was inviting death over. I let the new way of thinking take over, using the animal instincts and impulses. You can study sea creatures all your life, but nothing I've read has ever come close to that! ...Anyway, it all did very well at keeping me alive, so I hadn't noticed it was you there in the algal bloom until it was almost too late."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fish go mad when they're alone," John said, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine, you didn't mean to hurt us," Paul tried to reassure. "We've all done things we regret."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, but… it's all very concerning. Can you ask your friend to occupy himself for a moment? There's something I have to speak with you in private."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John bristled, and Paul so desperately wanted to tell him it was alright if John stayed but it wasn't. So with a heavy heart, he asked John to depart.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So much for all their bonding that morning.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better fuckin'..." John's voice trailed. Alistair didn't seem to mind his apprehension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We were looking for a way home, the three of us. And we've figured that there's a sort of pantheon of gods, seven in total. We were going to visit them… but that fell through."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The gods? You never struck me as the religious type," Paul commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You would be correct, but you see, the three of us woke up inside a ravine, and someone had carved out statues. It was very obviously a shrine, full of incense and tapestries, but the thing was, the statue resembled Madame Yoko. I know I sound mad, but we all concluded that it all was a test of some sort."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A… test," Paul echoed, voice numb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. If she truly was some Goddess of the sea, then she must've created that impossible submarine and used her powers to turn us into various sea-creatures of her kingdom. All of it would be some queer experiment, to see how humans would act in unfamiliar circumstances."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So you're going to try to find Yoko, then?" Paul whispered. "To try and go back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, that's, that's what we were betting on. If you and Richard are here, then I have to assume that every member of the expedition is still alive. I'm not sure if Mal or Neil were spared, but I have to have hope. We can begin searching tomorrow. Ever since I saw you in the algae, I had been circling, searching everywhere. I'm positive we can—!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," Paul said. "Wait. Al, I'm glad you're alive, and I'm glad the others are too, but I can't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't? Captain McCartney?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's Paul now, yeah? There's no sub, there's no captain. I'm just… me, and I belong here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I— oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It seems twice I had made this mistake, pegged you down as something you're not. Well, I guess that means both you and Richard are more flexible than I. Where is he, by the way? I would have loved to see what he became, I'm betting an octopus."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Actually, yeah. How'd you guess?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "I have a theory that it's all based on one's character. Mal's a beluga, fitting given his size and nature, and Neil's a sea turtle. As for me..." he trailed. "Well, blue's always been my favorite color," he said with a wry smile. His gigantic eyes slightly shifted. "He never spoke much with us, but I knew he loved octopodes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's changed," Paul said, "a lot. He's a really wonderful person."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I may have seen him earlier," Alistair said. "But my mind was somewhere else. I was only looking for you so I think I missed him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Know where they went?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm afraid not," he hummed. "Are you sure Richard wouldn't want to come back with us? Can you ask?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will, but I don't think I need to," Paul said. " 'Cause when you said that bit about Yoko, I felt nothing. It wasn't that I don't believe you, it's that the truth doesn't change a thing. Even if it's all a game to the fish gods or some loony prank, I've found something here. We have. And the reason </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn't change what we got."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair gave a small nod. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, then. Although my memory is hazy, I'm certain your friends merely retreated and are waiting for me to leave."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What if you go mad again, all on your own?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's no true way to plan for that," Alistair said. "But we set up a meeting spot, that old shrine I mentioned. I'll be near. And, uh, congratulations on finding a new life here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just like starting over," Paul said, and Alistair very hesitantly, opened his folded arms up. It took a moment for Paul to realize he was beckoning a hug and gave him a friendly embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If I don't find anything, I will come back," he said. "Try to convince the natives I'm not hostile."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll try me best," Paul said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Alistair scuttled away, his many legs moving in unison. He gave a shy half-bow to John who didn't respond in any way. With a chuckle, Alistair scurried off at a rapid pace, his colorful form disappearing in the sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now," John huffed. "You got some explaining to do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do, don't I?" Paul hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You said you didn't know anyone when we met."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did, but I thought they had all died."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And the names?" John asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My real name's James Paul McCartney, and Ringo's Richard Starkey," Paul said. "We sort of changed them, to distance us mentally from the accident."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The storm or avalanche," John grumbled. When Paul nodded, he shook his head. "It's whatever, innit? Don't matter what happened back then, or why, or how. Just— </span>
  <em>
    <span>upset, </span>
  </em>
  <span>really, knowing there's stuff I'm out of the loop on." John admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry about that," Paul said. "Never wanted to lie, but—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eh, spare it. I think we got more things to focus on, like where the fuck everyone went. I bet Geo or Ringo, Richard? Saw Blueberry and warned everyone. Bet they made their way to some safe house."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would Stu have a safe house?" Paul asked, looking at John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I don't see him fighting off any threats now, so yeah, I'd say he does. These people are paranoid, Paulie.” He then visibly steeled himself, and without warning, hollered “</span>
  <b>Where the fuck is everyone?!</b>
  <span>” To no one’s surprise, silence followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Check the houses,” Paul murmured, and the two set off to investigate their home-shed. Outside the shelter, in the most unsubtle fashion, the words “CRYSTAL SPIRES NORTH” were scrawled out in the sand. It was rather clever, for only humans knew how to read English, as proved by John’s confusion over the symbols. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what it’s like to be prepared?” Paul asked. “You think that’s why everyone’s so carefree, ‘cause whenever something comes up they got some sort of plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than… living like animals in the wastes then, I suppose?” John hesitantly asked back. There was something off about his posture, something insecure and vulnerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John, please. Let’s just find the others, alright? You know that wasn’t an insult at you,” Paul pleaded, one hand outstretched for John to take, yet the younger man didn’t move. “Don’t you want to find them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” John said. “It’s just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a lot of things that John wanted to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If we’re close, how come I never learned your real names?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you were buddies with Blue, why didn’t you recognize him at first?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why don’t you confide in us about the avalanche or storm or whatever-the-fuck it was?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And quite possibly the worst one of all:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you lied about all of that, then does that mean everything you told me was fake, too?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, John decided. It couldn’t be, for that particular thought was far too painful to cope with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starved,” John finally decided to say. “Skipped dinner and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, we should look for scraps,” Paul said, already by John’s side once again. It wasn’t the same as before, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that moment, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but neither one of them commented. The warm bliss between them evaporated, but John wasn’t going to turn away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was truly a fool, now. The rational part of his mind told him that lies were lies, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>James Paul McCartney </span>
  </em>
  <span>was not the same person as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Paul, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that something was afoot, that it was idiotic to actually believe another person loved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Paul squeezed his hand and the simple action alone was enough to make John’s heart skip a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God-damn if he wasn’t a clown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was the most lovestruck one of all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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